The Deadly Ones
by ElvesAreEpic
Summary: Stranded in the wildness with no supplies and an injured friend, Aragorn has nowhere to turn except for a couple of strangers. But what if they aren't everything they seem? Can Legolas and Aragorn really trust them?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, folks! Here is that story I promised about two years ago. Better late than never, right? I am actually super excited to be back. I only hope that I still remember how to write. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: not mine and it will never be.**

 **The Deadly Ones**

The rain was beating a steady rhythm against his face. That was the first thing that Aragorn registered. It smarted against his skin and he turned his head to the side, trying to escape.

A piercing pain shot through his head, beating a pulsing rhythm to match the pattering rain and he dragged a hand up to cover his face. The limb was strangely heavy and he couldn't move his other hand. A thrill of panic pierced through his heart and he stilled, listening intently to the sounds around him.

Aragorn could hear nothing except the wind and the rain. Blinking his eyes open, he snapped them shut as his head gave an unfriendly jab of pain. Waiting for a minute, he reopened his eyes and turned his head to look. To his great relief, his left arm was not bound like he had first thought and he brought it up or tried too. Pain shot through his arm and he stopped the movement, wincing.

Gingerly, he sat up. For a second, the world swirled around him and he found himself taking deep breathes. Once the dizziness had passed, he gently pulled his arm up into his lap with a hiss. It was broken or his father had failed in teaching him anything about healing.

Looking around, Aragorn couldn't help a deep frown. He was sitting on a jagged stone shelf that jutted several inches out from the wall of a steep ravine. That at least explained why his head hurt so much and the broken arm, but it did little to tell him how he had gotten there in the first place.

He couldn't remember anything. The last thing he did remember was leaving Rivendell but that didn't _feel_ like a recent memory and his frown deepened.

Looking up, Aragorn glared at the low grey clouds continuing to dump rain on him. Awkwardly pulling his already wet cloak around him, he moved stiffly to his knees. He needed to bind and splint his arm before he could get off this ledge, but the rock that Aragorn had landed on was painfully bare.

There was nothing.

Aragorn abruptly realized that he had no pack or supplies and the sword that was almost always at his side was missing. All he had was the clothes upon his back.

"Could this day get any worse?" he muttered to himself, unable to escape the feeling that something was wrong— _really—_ wrong.

Cursing in a low voice, he gripped the end of his cloak with his teeth and his good hand. With a loud ripping sound, he yanked the bottom edge of his cloak off into a long stripe. Holding his breath, he gripped his injured arm and carefully moved it from its protected position against his chest.

Pausing, Aragorn prepared himself for the pain that was about to come before pushing up his sleeve. He stopped as his vision hazed out. That arm was defiantly broken. Feeling along the rapidly swelling skin, he found the break and began to prod at it. It hurt and he wished sorely for his packet of herbs.

He stopped, stiffening. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end and he had the feeling that he was being watched. Whirling around, Aragorn scanned the trees above him. He frowned, shading his eyes from the rain but could find nothing out of the ordinary.

Hastily, he once again found the break. Grunting, he clenched his teeth together.

With one sure movement, Aragorn snapped the bone back into place. Grinding his teeth, he let out a clenched cry and blinked back black spots. Turning his face into the rain, he let it washed away the few involuntary tears from his cheeks. He kept his face skyward for a minute, trying to sense if he was still being watched. The feeling had gone but his unease remained.

Looking back down, he began to wrap the frayed remnants of his cloak around his arm.

It wasn't going to be enough. Grunting in frustration, he glanced around for some sort of stick or twig, anything that he could use as a splint. His eyes landed on a small plant peaking up out of a crevice and he frowned. That would hardly be able to hold a string straight, never mind an arm. There had to be something else he could use.

His eyes found a similar ledge just a few feet above and to the left of his and he crawled towards it. Keeping one hand pressed against the wall, he staggered upright. Standing on his tiptoes, Aragorn could just see over it.

To his surprise, there were a few arrows scattered along its length. One was broken in half, probably from impact with the rock. Aragorn didn't know how they got there but he wasn't going to complain. Stretching, Aragorn felt along the top until his fingers brushed a sharp tip. Grinning, he managed to pull one back. Quickly breaking the ends off, he tossed them to the side. He placed the long, straight stick against his arm and was just beginning to bind his wound when he paused.

Aragorn's eyes went back to the fletching and he stopped.

Those were not just any fletchings, he knew that style. Scooping it back up, he felt his heart beginning to beat rapidly. What was one of Legolas' arrows doing out here, unless—

"Legolas!" he called out as loud as he dared. His own voice echoed back and a strange loneliness swept over him. "Legolas!" he tried again only to for the same results. A horrible thought occurred to him.

Making his way over to the ledge, he looked down into the gully. Closing his eyes, Aragorn took a step back as his stomach churned uncomfortably. There, sprawled in an inelegant heap, was Legolas. He wasn't moving.

"Valar." Aragorn took another step back, running his hand through his wet hair. "No!" Looking back down, he stared at Legolas' body. The elf was lying in a puddle of what could only be blood and Aragorn felt sick. Cursing, he resumed his task of splinting his arm with added urgency. His hand was shaking.

Once his arm was secured, he began to scout for a way down. He might, _might,_ be able to land the jump but if he was to break a leg or his other arm then they would both be doomed. The rain made the rock face slippery as he felt along it, looking for a different way to the reach the ground.

There, a few feet beneath him was a small rock. It would have to work for now. Grasping tightly to edge with one hand, he lowered himself down until his boots touched the stone. Balancing on it, Aragorn hung there for a moment, realizing that he was stuck. There was no way that he could go up with only one hand and he couldn't reach the next foothold.

Glancing down, he could just see Legolas prone figure in the mud. Throwing all hesitations to the side, he did the only thing he could think to do; he jumped.

Hitting the ground hard on the tips of his feet, Aragorn felt the shock go up through his legs before they gave way beneath his weight. He crumpled to the ground and tasted blood as his chin smacked into the mud. There was no great amount of new pain (though his head was throbbing nastily) and Aragorn staggered to his feet.

Legolas lay several feet away, completely still, and Aragorn limped his way over to his side.

"Legolas?" Falling to his knees next to his friend, he felt his stomach drop. The puddle of blood beneath the elf was substantial and when Aragorn reached out to find a find a pulse he was cold to the touch. Aragorn froze, unable to convince his fingers to work. If Legolas was dead…

Aragorn was going to hunt down whoever had done this and make them pay.

"Don't be dead, don't be dead," he muttered, forcing his fingers to work. He brushed back Legolas' long hair and held his finger against his throat. Holding his breath, he waited.

A rapid pulse reached his fingers and he bowed his head in relief.

"Thanks be to the Valar."

Legolas' tunic was wet with blood just below the ribs and he pressed along his back until he felt the skin gave away under pressure. Pulling the edges of the elf's ripped tunic back, he cursed.

There was a rather nasty looking hole decorating Legolas' lower back. Aragorn bent closer, wiping rainwater out of his eyes. Hastily making sure that Legolas' spine wasn't broken; Aragorn grabbed Legolas' by the tunic rolled his limp body over onto his back.

Blood was everywhere. It covered the prince's face, stemming from what looked like a broken nose and some of it trickled out of the corner of his mouth. But the majority of it came from a gaping hole in the elf's stomach. Acting swiftly, Aragorn began to ripe several sections from his cloak, glancing back at Legolas' lax face. The elf had a grey tinge under all the blood.

"Hold on, just hold on for me," he bent back over Legolas, bandages at the ready. Aragorn began to pack the wound hurriedly with long strips of cloth. His hand came away covered with blood and his left bloody prints against the sage of Legolas' tunic. He rolled Legolas back over, working on the exit wound.

"When I found out who did this…" he trailed off, wrenching Legolas' quiver free and throwing it to the side so that he could have better access. Aragorn couldn't help but notice that Legolas' pack was also missing, along with his white knives and bow.

How could they have both lost everything? No, something wasn't right and they needed to leave this place. The feeling of being watched returned and he glanced back up. A shiver went up his spine. They were exposed, and a clear shot to anyone from above.

The thought made him hunch protectively over the elf as he began to wind the last bandage around his back, holding everything in place.

"Here we go, _mellon-nin_ ," Aragorn whispered. Grabbing the elf by his tunic he heaved him over onto his side and finished wrapping the last strip into a tight knot. The makeshift bandages were already turning red and he shook his head, feeling completely helpless. Reaching out, he once again felt the elf's pulse. Legolas' heart was beating at an unnaturally fast pace, trying its best to keep blood pumping through the elf's body.

"Now, don't you give up, understand?" Aragorn instructed under his breath, squeezing the elf's hand.

Frowning, he braced himself against Legolas' shoulder and rose to his feet. How on earth was he going to carry the elf? Shaking his head, he looked around for inspiration. Something silver glinted up at him just past Legolas and Aragorn frowned, squinting hard. It looked like a weapon.

Thinking that some good luck had finally come their way, he stepped carefully over Legolas' still body.

It was the pommel of a sword; _his_ sword.

Smiling, he limped over to the blade and hunched down, grasping the handle. Standing again, the smile on his face vanished.

The weapon was streaked in blood from point to hilt. Aragorn stared at the sword, wondering whose blood it was, and caught some of the red drops on his finger. Hesitantly, he held them up to his nose. His eyes grew wide and he dropped the sword as if it had burned his hand. It bounced against the ground, clanging.

That wasn't just any blood. That was elf blood. That was Legolas' blood.

 **TBC...**

 **There you have it! Hate it? Love it? Let me know in the reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Also, sorry this is so late. I don't know what possesses teachers to assign homework over break, but that is what I have been working on.**

Chapter Two

Aragorn remained frozen, staring at the sword for several long seconds as the rain continued to wash the evidence away.

What was Legolas' blood doing on _his_ sword? Unless it was someone else's blood—but they were nowhere close to Imladris and it was unlikely that any other elves would be around.

The sword continued to glint up at him, almost as if it knew the story that Aragorn couldn't remember, mocking him. A crack of thunder echoed across the sky and the drops of rain began to fall faster, whipping against the bare skin of his face. Shivering, he pulled himself out the trace and scooped up the blade. Their first priority was to find shelter and get out of the elements; then he could figure out what the mystery of what had happened. Just looking at the sword made Aragorn shudder and he hastily ran the blade over his pant leg, removing any other stains from it.

Hesitantly, he buckled it back into place at his side. The weapon had spilled a friend's blood and it was tainted in a way that Aragorn would never have imagined, but they needed some sort of protection.

Going back to his original task, he studied Legolas for a minute. Crouching down, he draped one of Legolas' limp arms around his neck and wrapped one arm around the elf's waist and rose. Aragorn's good hand clamped down on Legolas' wrist, holding him in place as the prince's body hung lax against him. Legolas' head lolling sickeningly off to one side and Aragorn jostled him until his head flopped against his shoulder.

"Alright, off we go. Shelter." Aragorn's own head hadn't stopped throbbing and cold shivers were starting to shake him.

Moving steadily forward, Aragorn began to weigh his options. He couldn't climb up the steep walls of the ravine, not with Legolas and a broken arm. It was all he could do to keep both of them staggering forward. Nor did the path behind them appear easy, their best option was to simply continue on and follow the stone wall and hope for the best.

THEDEADLYONES

Night was quickly descending upon them and Aragorn gazed dully around him, watching his breath fog up. They still hadn't found shelter and he was growing desperate. His nose and fingers had gone numb long ago as the wind and the rain continued to beat him.

Legolas was dead weight in his arms and Aragorn couldn't help but fear that he was dragging his friend's corpse along

"Please…help us find someplace to stay," the man whispered, looking up at the skies. The rain continued to fall and he had to squint to see in the growing darkness and around his headache. Trudging forward he slipped and his knees hit the ground hard.

Groaning, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. They needed shelter, Legolas needed shelter. Opening his eyes, he blinked in surprise. In front of him was a giant slab of stone. It appeared to have crumbled off the cliff wall a long time ago and it rested on its side at an angle. Over the years, other smaller stones had also fallen around it and had created a wall of sorts. There was one small opening between two of the larger rocks and Aragorn was sure that they could squeeze into it.

With new found energy, he forced himself to his feet and slipping and sliding made his way towards the entrance. Turning sideways, he shuffled his way in. The lack of wind and rain was noticeable immediately and Aragorn felt like he could cry with relief. A scattering of rain continued to drip through the cracks as the wind found holes to whistle through and it was small and cramped, but the shelter was more than welcomed.

Moving to the far back of the cave, he eased Legolas to lay flat on his back before straightening. The prince was white, his lips looking blue in the dark cave and Aragorn tentatively grasped his wrist.

Legolas' heart was still beating sluggishly and Aragorn sat back against the rock wall. He buried his head in his hands and blew out a long breath. Legolas wasn't dead, not yet anyway. The chill of the stone leaked through his heavy coat and he continued to shiver violently. They may have found shelter but his job wasn't done yet.

"Legolas," he whispered softly, scooting back over to where the elf lay. Legolas didn't respond. Reaching out his hand, Aragorn covered the prince's forehead firmly. "We need wood. We need a fire," he began, hoping that somehow the elf would hear him. "I've got to go find some, but I'll be right back. Don't move or I'll…well, I don't know what I will do, but you won't like it."

Smiling, he bowed just low enough for their heads to touch before hurrying out into the maturing storm. His head gave a painful throb of protest as the rain and wind began to bet against him again and he rubbed at it, wishing that it would just go away.

Like everything that had happened that day, it seemed to take longer than he had hoped or wished to find what he was looking for. Most of the wood was wet, but at long last, he managed to find a heavily wooded area just outside of the ravine where the ground was dry. Gathering up several sticks, he stuck them under his arm and braved the storm once more.

Shaking with cold and some frustration, Aragorn slipped back into their small shelter. Legolas was exactly as he had left him, small puffs of air fogging up as he breathed.

 _At least I know that he is alive,_ Aragorn couldn't help the morbid thought and set to work lighting the fire. Thanking the Valar that he always kept a few spare matches in his breeches pocket, he piled the wood up. His hands were numb from cold at and it took some creative balancing and some swearing to get the matches to strike on the damp wood but at long last they did.

After that small task was complete, Aragorn turned his attention back to Legolas, his own needs would have to wait for a little longer.

The elf was drenched completely through and a small puddle of water had formed around him. Hir wet hair was sticking to his pallid face and Aragorn gently brushed it aside. Blinking past his headache, Aragorn wrestled the elf out of his jerkin and tunic and laid them out by the fire to dry. Still, Legolas made no move and Aragorn frowned.

Rolling him over onto his side, Aragorn pulled the bandages back. The wound was still bleeding sluggishly and he grimaced, turning for his pack only to be reminded that it was gone. He had nothing. He didn't have herbs, or needle, or bandages, he didn't even have a pot to heat water and clean the wound. Guilt flared up in his heart and he hastily rebound the wound. He didn't want to think about whatever had happened; he would take care of it the morning.

Hissing under his breath, he began to shed his own soaked cloak and shirt, spreading them by the fire to dry. The little shelter was beginning to warm up nicely by now and his shivering had lessened. Running a hand through his still wet hair, he shook it out, sending water flying every direction.

He returned to the elf's side, once again tracking the beat of his heart. It wasn't as sluggish as before and Aragorn silently thanked the Valar.

Feeling that Legolas was as stable as he was going to get for the next few hours, Aragorn returned to the fire and added several more sticks. The fire crackled happily, accepting the offerings. Their clothing was drying nicely and if he gave it another hour he could use them for blankets.

Turning, he couldn't help the wide yawn that split his face. Sitting down next to Legolas, he pulled him into his lap and back to rock lightly as he waited. He gazed outside at the falling rain, attempting to keep his eyes from closing.

All he was really wanted to do was wrap up in a warm blanket and sleep for a week straight but he had neither a blanket nor the time. His headache thumped away faithfully behind his eyes and he had to pause, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose hard in hopes that it would help. It didn't.

Cursing, he leaned his head back against the wall. After reexamining Legolas' wound he hadn't been able to help but notice that the gaping hole in the elf's body was the same size and width of his sword. The thought made him feel slightly ill and he shuddered. He still didn't know how his sword had ended up impaling the elf. For all he knew, _he_ could have been the one to stab him. Battle was chaotic, after all. What if _he_ had accidentally done the damage?

Aragorn couldn't comprehend it. Sighing, he rested his head on Legolas' shoulder.

His friend was as still in his arms, much too still for someone who always had more energy than he knew what to do with. Dried blood was staining his skin and it didn't take very much to imagine that Legolas was dead.

What if he had killed the elf, accident or not?

Legolas let a long breath, breaking the moment and Aragorn let out a shaky sigh.

Reaching behind him, he checked their cloaks to find them mostly dry. Gathering up the warm material, he scooted back to sit against the wall directly next to the fire. Gently grasping Legolas under the arms, he hoisted him up further against his chest. His arm gave a throb of pain worthy to match his head, but he ignored both.

Throwing what was left of their cloaks over them like blankets, Aragorn huddled up against Legolas. His friend was like an ice-cube against his chest and Aragorn frowned, trying to rub some life into the prince.

His eyes began to drift shut of their own according and Aragorn placed his good hand on the elf's chest, assuring himself that if anything were to change that he would know.

Leaning his head back against the cool stone, he was asleep almost before his eyes closed.

THEDEADLYONES

Aragorn awoke to a weak sunshine filtering in through the small cracks in the rocks. The fire had gone out long ago and soot drifted across the cave, pushed along by a gentle breeze. It was frigid cold in the small shelter.

"Legolas?" Aragorn shifted, trying to get a good look at the elf's face. He was instantly alarmed that he hadn't been awakened through the night, but he could still feel Legolas' chest rising and falling against his hand. He huddled against Legolas for a moment, sharing in the warmth, but he knew he couldn't stay there forever.

Sighing, he tossed the cloaks back, bringing in a rush of cold air. Shivering, Aragorn eased Legolas back down to the ground, resting him atop the cloaks.

Breath fogging up, Aragorn hastened to relight the fire. It had stopped raining sometime in the night and the ground was still glistening with it. Once the fire was up and going he began to quickly take stock of how he felt.

His body was sore and his arm was throbbing in beat with his heart. The swelling was noticeably more than last night and dark bruises had blossomed up, making it look worse than it actually was. It hurt, but at least his headache had faded; thinking was easier and that was a relief all by itself. Turning his attention back to Legolas, he winced in sympathy.

Magnificent bruises were lining Legolas' chest and back, showing where he had hit the ground. His face was swollen and similar bruises lined the lump of his broken nose. Aragorn should have fixed that last night. Shaking his head, Aragorn efficiently placed his hand against Legolas' nose and with one sure jerk, snapped it back into place. The elf whimpered at the sudden pain and Aragorn's eyes brightened.

"Legolas?" he called, smiling as Legolas' head twisted to the side. The elf's features scrunched up into a pained expression and another soft groan left his lips. "Legolas, can you hear me?" The elf moaned, his eyelids fluttering but he couldn't seem to pry them open and Aragorn pressed harder, calling his name louder.

At long last, his eyelids flickered. He gazed around the room, trying to figure out where they were at.

"What happened?" Legolas croaked. His eyes fluttered closed again and it was with an effort that he wrenched them open.

"I don't know," Aragorn replied honestly as he sat back on his heels. He wrapped his hand around Legolas' arm, just glad to see Legolas awake. Legolas grimaced, swallowing shakily as he came to term with the pain. His face paled and after several deep breathes he was able to refocus.

He blinked dazedly at the human. "What happened to your arm?" he asked, waving one hand vaguely in the man's direction. Even that effort seemed to cost him and it dropped back to the ground. Aragorn carefully tucked it back under the cloak.

"It's fine, only broken, and it looks worse than it is." Aragorn glanced down at it his own hurt, shifting it to a better position. The sharp hiss of pain didn't go unnoticed by Legolas.

"Put it in a sling," he requested. "Don't you know these things, aren't you a healer?"

Aragorn ignored the jibe and the advice.

Scooting closer to Legolas, his eyes narrowed. "How are you feeling?" he asked seriously. Legolas just shook his head, his face a painful sort of pasty color.

"I'm taking it that I ended up on the wrong side of a fight," he said, grimacing and biting down hard on his lower lip.

Aragorn watched him intently, his worry increasing. "How's the pain?"

Legolas shrugged, breathing in deeply. "I've had worse."

"But you've also been better." Aragorn inched closer. He tried to offer a smile but it fell flat. "I would have drugged you already but…" he trailed off, waving his hand towards the empty cave. "Our packs seem to be missing."

Legolas nodded before the meaning of the words sunk in. "What, wait?" he asked, his eyes snapping open. "Where's my bow? What do you mean our packs are gone?" Urgency crept into his voice and he tried to sit up but fell back with a cry.

"Hold still!" Aragorn snapped, reaching out to stop him. Legolas wavered, his face had gone whiter then fresh snow and Aragorn thought that he was going to pass out for a second. Gripping his arm tightly, he hovered over him while Legolas took deep shuddering breaths.

"Don't move," Aragorn said wirily, sitting back against once he was sure that Legolas wasn't in danger. Legolas didn't pay him any attention.

"Where's my bow?" he asked again, looking around as if the treasured weapon would just appear in there already cramped confines.

"I don't know," Aragorn said again. He shrugged helplessly when the elf's eyes meet his, the unspoken questions clear. "I honestly don't know how we ended up in this position." He paused again, indecision weighing on his face. "Do you remember what happened?"

Legolas screwed up his face, thinking. "We…we were out scouting for Elrond, right?" Aragorn frowned, thinking. That felt right, so he nodded. "The twins went further north, we went—"

"—Northwest." Aragorn nodded, the memory coming back to him.

Legolas stopped, frowning. "That's all I can remember," he admitted. Aragorn didn't know to be happy or upset about that. He still didn't know who had stabbed his friend, but he didn't know for sure that it had been under his hand. His relief didn't last long. Did he tell the elf? He chocked on his words, unable to get them to leave his lips but Legolas saved him.

"Something is wrong here," he said, his face dark as he shoved an elbow under his body, trying to rise once more.

"Ah, hold up," Aragorn pressed the elf back towards the ground. "You just about passed out two seconds ago and you want to just waltz out of here?"

"We need to leave!" Legolas insisted, looking around him. "Something is… off." He once again tried to sit up but he ended up curled over, once again breathing through the onslaught of pain. His belly was on fire and all this moving wasn't helping.

Aragorn laid a firm hand on his side, keeping him in place.

"I told you," he chided. Legolas looked down at where he clutched at his side. His hand was spotted in blood and he hurriedly pressed it back before Aragorn could see.

"But—"

Aragorn shook his head, cutting the elf off. "We are safe at the moment. Legolas, you can't even stand up. You are in no condition to be traveling."

"What other choice do we have?" Legolas tried again, resisting Aragorn's attempting to get him to lie back down. "Don't tell me that you do not feel the heaviness in the air. Something is wrong and the quicker we get out of here, the better."

Aragorn looked once at the elf, before staring out into the day.

"Evil deeds were done last night," he said at long last. "I don't know by what or," he paused, eyes not meeting the elf's, "who." Guilt surged up in his chest and he looked over at his friend. He may not know for sure how they ended up like this but there was a loud, mocking voice in his head that said that he had been the one to handle the sword. "But Legolas, you can't run, you can't even stand."

"I just need a few minutes. I can do it," Legolas assured him, still keeping his hand pressed against his belly. "Please. You've trusted my judgment before. Something is off, I'm telling you. The mere fact that neither of us remembers anything should be alarming." The long speech seemed to have winded the elf and slumped further down, his head hanging low.

Aragorn sighed heavily, watching the elf with worry. Legolas was right and he knew it. Something was wrong. The feeling of being watched the other night came back to him he resisted the urge to shiver.

"Besides," the elf added. "You said we have no packs. We don't have supplies. No food, no wood, nothing."

"Alright, alright!" Aragorn shook his head. "We leave as soon as we are able." Legolas nodded the relief clear on his face.

" _Hannon le_ ," he whispered tiredly. Aragorn sighed, shaking his head.

"This isn't going to be easy," he warned. Legolas only nodded in agreement and Aragorn rocked onto his feet and looked around the carven. He gathered up the rest of the clothing from the ground and kicked out the fire. Tucking the shirt over Legolas' head, he was helping to wrestle him into it when he saw the fresh blood staining the elf's side.

"Where you going to tell me about that?" he demanded. Legolas smiled weakly and Aragorn rolled his eyes, his hand tightening into a fist.

"You can be so difficult, you know that right?" He spent the next couple minutes retying fresh bandages around the wound, trying to get the bleeding to stop for good. When it was as good as it was going to get, Aragorn rose.

He stood there for a minute, a hand on his waist. "You know that feeling that you get when you are packing and feel like you are forgetting something important?" He looked around at Legolas, who was nodding. "Well, I'm having that feeling now but there is literally nothing else to pack. There is nothing else here besides rocks."

Legolas snorted, rolling his eyes. "And those are so helpful, please do pack your pockets with them," Aragorn half turned, raising his eyebrow in a grand imitation of Elrond.

"You are so strange," he stated.

"I'm strange? I can't believe that you just had the nerve to say that."

 **TBC...**

 **The plot thickens next week, so stay tuned! This adventure is far from over. :)**

 **Sorry for any mistakes and I am open to suggestions Review and let me know what I could do better on or what you liked. Thank you again and hopefully, all the Americans have a marvelous Thanksgiving.**

 **Review Replies:**

 **Guest 1: Oh, thank you so much! I am so excited to be back and to be able to write again, I have missed it greatly. The only problem is now that I have started I really don't want to stop.**

 **Guest 2: Trust me, I was so glad to be back. I love everything about Fanfiction and the people here. Thank you so much for reviewing! They light up my day.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Three

Legolas was shaking badly.

"We can rest, you know," Aragorn said not for the first time since leaving their little shelter only an hour early. Before they had left, Legolas had insisted on rebinding Aragorn's arm and putting it in a sling, but that left the man with only one hand to support his ailing friend. Legolas only shook his head, trying to control his body as he staggered forward. His vision hazed and his body tilted the side as the arm around his waist tightened. "Legolas…" Aragorn began again.

"If I sit down I won't stand up again," the elf admitted, coughing as his breath caught in his throat. He groaned, gripping Aragorn's tunic tight enough that his knuckles turned white.

Aragorn came to a stop. "You will get up again. Come, you need to sit down before you end up falling flat on your face." Legolas only shook his head again, his grip intensifying. Aragorn rolled his eyes toward the heavens. "Sit, or I will make you," he threatened.

Legolas swore under his breath, his hand moving to wrap protectively around his wound.

"We need to leave…" he protested feebly.

"And we will," Aragorn assured him, "Just rest for fifteen minutes, that is all that I am asking." He glared at the elf, their wills evenly matched. Legolas' body, however, wasn't and his own quivering knees betrayed him.

"I hate you," he murmured as Aragorn eased him to the ground and settled him against a large stone.

"That's a lie. You love me," Aragorn scoffed, sitting down next to the elf with a thump. He bowed his head, catching his own breath. The grey clouds from last night were still looming threateningly in the sky and Aragorn frowned. He wouldn't be surprised if it started raining again.

He glanced over at Legolas, watching as the elf grimaced miserably and leaned his head forward against the stone. Aragorn still hadn't told Legolas about finding his blood on _his_ sword and he feared what the elf would say. Rationally, he knew that Legolas wouldn't bat an eye; he knew that he wouldn't if the roles had been reversed. But what if—

No, he wouldn't go there, not when Legolas needed him to be focused on other things. Aragorn shifted restlessly and began to tug with one hand at the knotted bandages that were resting against the elf's wound.

"You can't leave it alone, can you?" Legolas grunted, eyes closed. He wasn't feeling well, not that he was going to tell Aragorn that, and his whole body was pleased with the lack of movement.

"You were bleeding back in the cave and I want to make sure you aren't going to bleed out on me. That would be unfortunate after all I have gone through to save your neck."

The first bandage fell away and Aragorn moved to check the bleeding. Legolas jumped, slapping his hand away.

"What?" Aragorn protested in exasperation, sitting back on his heels.

"Your hands were cold," Legolas mumbled, flushing lightly and allowing the man to check his wound once more.

"I am so sorry, your royal highness." Aragorn rolled his eyes. Blood was still sluggishly dribbling out the wound and he frowned. "Oh, for a needle," he bemoaned, shaking his head and rebinding the wound tighter than before. Legolas grunted, his face paling.

"Not so tight," he muttered, trying to shift away as Aragorn rested his hand momentarily against the elf's cheek. Legolas was cold to the touch and a sliver of fear pierced Aragorn's heart.

 _At least you know that the blade wasn't poisoned,_ " a mocking voice inside his head stated. That was something, at least. He enfolded one of the elf's hands in his own, trying to warm them.

They set together for almost thirty minutes, neither wanting to move again. At last, Aragorn rose to his feet.

"The sun won't stay out forever," he said, reaching out a hand. Legolas nodded in agreement. He took the proffered hand and Aragorn pulled him to his feet.

"Don't throw up on my boots!" Aragorn warned as the elf wavered, his face turning a nasty tint of green.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Legolas squeezed his eyes shut. The trees were spinning viciously around him and it felt like his head was floating away from his body. Aragorn's arm came up around his waist and he clenched a handful of the man's tunic, grounding himself.

"Just nice and easy, there is no rush," Aragorn murmured in his ear, allowing the elf to lean against him as his knees buckled. "And I'm serious about the boot thing," he teased. He was awarded as Legolas lips twitched upwards into a grin.

"What is going to happen if I do?" he asked between deep breaths, though the humor was still evident.

"I—ah," Aragorn paused, thinking.

"That's what I thought," the elf's smile widen, though his eyes remained firmly shut.

Aragorn began to pull them along, and Legolas forced his heavy legs to follow.

It wasn't long before they stopped again.

"Do you hear that?" Aragorn asked. Legolas opened his eyes only to clamp them shut again as the world insisted on moving under his feet.

"Hear what?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"It sounds like someone is singing."

Legolas paused. Someone _was_ singing, a woman from the sound of her voice.

 _Two little bird sore high and free_

 _Won't you come down and play with me?_

 _Two little birds land in the big tree,_

 _Won't you come down and play with me?_

"That's odd." Legolas risked looking at Aragorn.

"Yeah…I don't like it." Aragorn hoisted Legolas higher against him. "We should go." The voice continued the refrain and Aragorn couldn't help a shudder from going through his shoulders.

"I agree." Legolas straightened against Aragorn, determined to talk more of his own weight.

Once again they started off, Legolas stumbling along. His stomach rolled hand, sending both waves of pain and nausea coursing through his body, and he doubled over. Aragorn instantly stopped, shifting his weight to the left to compensate. When Legolas did raise his head, he was trembling worse than ever and sweat lined his pallid face.

Aragorn tried to convince him to rest, but this time Legolas won't hear of it. They couldn't stop, something was… _off_. The singing had faded, but its eerie melody was haunting him.

They thought they had left it far behind until they entered a small clearing.

A woman was kneeling on the ground and jumped visibly at their abrupt appearance. Screaming, she leaped to her feet. The basket full of mushrooms that she had been collecting rolled away, spilling the fungi across the dirt.

Aragorn sprang back as well, cursing under his breath. He back peddled quickly but she screamed again, staring at them as she backed up against the tree.

"Who are you and what do you want?!" She snapped, her hand clutching a thin knife that she had yanked out for her bodice.

"Who are you?" Aragorn demanded back, his fingers itching to draw his sword but he couldn't, not while supporting Legolas.

"Get back! Get back! Don't come any closer," she hissed, holding the knife higher. "I asked a question, answer me!"

Aragorn sighed, glancing down at Legolas. The elf's face was white but he nodded ever so slightly. "I am Strider, a ranger of the north. This is Legolas from the woodland realm. Now, who are you?"

The women hesitated, slowly lowering the knife.

"What's wrong with him?" Her eyes narrowed in concern and she inched closer. Aragorn backed up several feet, dragging Legolas with him.

"Don't come any closer!" he barked and she paused.

"I only want to help." She held out a hand but Aragorn shook his head and she sighed.

"I am Bella. I live on a small farm with my husband not far from here. These are dangerous times, though, and you shouldn't be wondering about." Her eyes had darkened, anger entering her voice. "Let me help you. Where is his wound and how bad is it?" She stood there, with her hands on her hips and staring at them.

Aragorn didn't trust her. He couldn't put a finger on it, but he wasn't going to let her anywhere near Legolas. Legolas tugged lightly on his sleeve and he looked over at him. He shook his head and Aragorn nodded.

"Sorry for startling you, ma'am. We should be on our way." He began to move towards the trees but she jogged forward.

"You can't leave! You don't have any supplies and he needs aid. Come, follow me. You can stay at my home where he can rest and recover." Her words were soft and easily spoken but Aragorn shook his head.

"We will be fine," he insisted. Bella glared at him, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. "Alright, fine. Have it your way. If he dies, it will be your fault!" She turned her back and began to gather up the fallen mushrooms, stuffing them angrily in her basket.

"He's not going to die." Aragorn pulled Legolas closer.

"Well, he doesn't look good," Bella retorted, picking up her basket. Balancing it on her hip, she turned back to him, her nose in the air. "You don't look like you have done a very good job of taking care of it. Have you even cleaned it?"

Aragorn's jaw dropped open. "I beg your pardon!" he spluttered, "I've cared for him better than most would have in our current situation."

She raised an eyebrow. "I repeat, did you clean it?"

Aragorn didn't answer her. They hadn't come across any water so he had not had the opportunity to clean it.

"At least come back to the house with me and get some herbs and bandages. We can clean it there instead of in the wild where it is bound to become infected."

Aragorn opened his mouth to protest again but stopped. He didn't have any of his own herbs and even if he wasn't a healer he would be able to tell that Legolas wasn't doing well. Would it really hurt that much to go and collect some herbs and clean the wound?

Legolas was shaking his head again but all that Aragorn could see in his mind's eye was the elf, lying in his own gore, his blood staining Aragorn's sword.

"It wouldn't be a problem to you?" he asked hesitantly and Bella shook her head, eyes lightening up.

"It wouldn't be a problem at all." She beckoned him forward, grinning.

Legolas shook his head again. "Strider," he hissed, easily following in use with the ranger's nickname. "I don't like this. I _don't—_ " he stopped wincing as he missed a step.

"We aren't going to stay long. We are just going to pick up some supplies and be on our way," Aragorn replied just as quietly. His eyes narrowed, focusing in on Bella's back as they began to move. Legolas fell into a resentful silence.

Bella began to sing.

 _Two little birds soaring high and free_

 _Won't you come down to play with me?_

 _Two little birds land in the big tree,_

 _Won't you come down to play with me?_

The lullaby sent a chill up Aragorn's spine, and Legolas gave him an I-told-you-so look.

It didn't take them long to reach Bella's home. It was a fairly large cottage pressed back into the trees. A small trail of smoke was curling up from the chimney, drifting off and blending into the grey clouds.

"Come in, come inside," Bella looked back once she reached the doorstep only to find Aragorn rooted to the spot about ten feet away. She laughed, waving him forward. "I won't bite."

"If it's alright, I would just like to stay here." Aragorn shuffled his feet, glancing at Legolas. "Maybe you could just bring them out too me…" he trailed off as Bella sighed.

"I don't know what you need."

"But—"

"—Oh, come along, stop being such a coward. If anyone should be afraid, it is me. I'm inviting two strange men into my house; you could kill me any second." Her eyes lingered on Aragorn's and she smiled.

Dragging his feet, Aragorn began to cross the clearing. He paused once more, before stepping foot in the home. The sizzling smell of roasting chicken hit his senses and his stomached rumbled. He hadn't even realized how hungry he was until just now.

They moved further into the house, passing the kitchen. He could see a loaf of bread sitting on the table and the chicken turning in the pit. The kettle was just beginning to hiss.

"Right through here!" Bella's head popped around the corner and Aragorn slowly followed her.

"Estel, this isn't right," Legolas muttered under his breath.

"I know," Aragorn whispered in turn. "But…" he shrugged. They needed herbs and this would save him the time-consuming task of finding herbs out in the wild. Bella led them through the passageway and into a storage room. Shoving back a plain red rug with her foot, she grasped a metal ring and yanked open a trap door, stepping down onto a ladder. Once more Aragorn stopped.

"Uh, I can't bring Legolas down there," he pointed out.

"What?" Bella's head popped back up before she laughed merrily.

"I have a spare bedroom, why don't you go lay him down. The second door down the hallway!" she called up. Aragorn stood there for a second, debating.

"No!" Legolas insisted and pressed closer to Aragorn. "If I can't go down, then just let me sit out here."

"Oh, don't be silly," Bella's voice echoed up from the depths and Aragorn looked from his friend's pale face to Bella.

"Estel, Ceri- ú- chil hi-nin," Legolas whispered, turning pleading blue eyes on Aragorn.

"Second door on the left!" Bella called and Aragorn shrugged helplessly. Legolas shook his head again, but the effect was less then what he desired as he turned his head away, coughing raggedly.

"It will be just for a moment," Aragorn assured softly. "I'm just going to grab some herbs and then I promise you that we will be on our way."

He half carried Legolas back the way they had come and into a small room in the very back of the house. A modest little bed rested in the corner and Aragorn lead Legolas over too it.

"Estel," Legolas whispered as Aragorn sat them both down on the bed before ducking out from underneath the elf's arm.

Aragorn paused, glancing back. "Legolas, don't lie to me and tell me that you don't need the rest. I won't be long, I swear." Aragorn bent down, gripping Legolas' shoulder firmly and meeting his eyes. "Rest, for me. Please."

Legolas frowned more deeply but allowed the man to help him lean against the wall.

"Don't take all their herbs," he ordered, closing his eyes as he wrapped his arm protectively around his wound. Aragorn grinned, patting the elf's knee lightly.

"Don't move until I come back," he stated, pointing a warning finger in the elf's face.

He jogged back towards the cellar, almost running into Bella as she came bolting through the hallway. She tumbled, almost falling, but he caught her arms in a steadfast grip. She flushed, straightening her bodice with a tug.

"Sorry," she said. Her eyes were wide and Aragorn looked around, wondering what had frightened her so. "I thought—you didn't come back and—Nevermind." She turned, quickly making her way back towards the cellar. Aragorn stared after her, completely confused.

All the same, he followed her down the steep ladder. Aragorn couldn't help but stare as he jumped down off of the last rung. The walls were crowded with shelves that were overflowing with bottles and ointments. Hanging from the ceiling were racks and racks of herbs of every color, shape, and size. There was any herb that Aragorn could have wanted and it made his heart sing.

"You like it?" Bella giggled at the expression on Aragorn's face as he made his way across the room. He fingered a long string of lavender, grinning like a fool.

"This will work just fine," he said. "Do you have a bag that I could borrow?"

She nodded and returned a moment later with a small bag. Aragorn began to run his hand over the plants, pulling and selecting at seemingly random.

"Are you a healer?" he asked as pulled a small bottle from the shelves and opened it, sniffing.

"Eh," Bella lightly pulled a fragment flower from where it was hanging and began to twirl it. "My husband has more of a knack at it then I do." She laughed. "But I wouldn't say that he is a healer. How about you? You seem to know a lot about herbs despite the fact of knowing nothing about taking care of wounds."

Aragorn half wondered what she would say if he told her that he was trained by Middle-earth's greatest healer, and turned to look at her. She was right behind him, smiling at him, and he quickly turned back to the herbs, moving more quickly.

"Well," she pressed.

"I know a little," he finally said. She stepped closer, her hand coming out to rest against the middle of Aragorn's back as she leaned forward to look at something.

Aragorn cleared his throat and took several steps away to gather some of the hanging herbs.

Soon enough he had enough herbs and bandages to doctor a whole army and after thanking Bella in what he hoped was not a stiff voice, he made for the cellar steps. Climbing up, he reached down and helped pull Bella up the last few steps.

She turned pink, grinning easily at him. Her hand rested a second too long in his and Aragorn let go as if he had been burned. She only grinned at him blinking slowly and fluttering her eyelashes.

"After you," She whispered, pointing back towards the way they had come. Aragorn could feel her eyes boring into his back and he felt decidedly uncomfortable.

She was a married woman, he wasn't going anywhere near that.

"I'm going to go heat you some water!" Bella called, and he half turned to see her enter the kitchen. Breathing a sigh of relief, he turned and found his own back to Legolas' room.

TBC...

 **Well, I don't know if they should really be trusting her... but then again I think they know that. Question is, will they hang around?** **This chapter was going to be longer, but then I couldn't find a good stopping point so this is what it is.** **Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! :)**

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for everyone who is reviewing! It warms my heart on these cold nights. Oh, well, I guess I always say that I prefer to cold rather than hot. Haha, I guess Aragorn and Legolas would agree, they have been in enough hot water to last them a lifetime. Maybe two.**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Four

"Hey," Aragorn said softly as he slipped through the door. Legolas eyes flickered open, tracking the man's movements lethargically.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked, wincing as he pushed himself up straighter. Aragorn was at his side in an instant and reached out for his arm but Legolas waved him off.

The man smiled widely. "Did I ever!" He sat back on the bed and pulled the elf's cloak back, frowning as he saw the blood spotting the white bandages.

Legolas closed his eyes once again, shifting against the bed to find a more comfortable position. "Well, hurray for you." Aragorn's well-skilled hands began to press lightly against the wound and Legolas flinched, drawing in a deep breath. "Can we go now?"

"One minute," Aragorn began to struggle with the knots and with a heavy sigh Legolas swatted his hand away and tug at the knots himself. The bandages fell back, revealing the red, swollen, wound. Small bits of dirt and rocks were embedded in the flesh and Aragorn found himself shaking his head. Infection was bound to set in. Pulling herbs out of his bag, he began to place the plants on the table, sorting them.

Reaching back around, he picked up Legolas wrist and began to count.

"Is all this _really_ necessary?" Legolas asked, watching Aragorn through hooded eyes.

"Yes, now be quiet so that we can leave here sooner." Aragorn restarted counting. He frowned, adding a few more herbs to the pile and began to crush them with his fingers.

He looked up, giving the elf a small grin. "Now if only we had some food we would be just as right as rain." The smell coming from the kitchen was continuing to waft throughout the house and his stomach growled. Legolas made a face, looking nauseated.

As if on cue there came a soft rap on the door. Aragorn froze what he was doing. Legolas tensed, looking at Aragorn and then at the door.

"One second," Aragorn whispered, getting to his feet and crossing to the door. He pulled it open an inch, glancing out.

Bella stood there, smiling sweetly.

"I brought some hot water to wash his injuries with, and some more bandages," she explained. Aragorn hesitated, before opening the door wider.

Bella floated into the room, balancing several items. Swung over her arm was a basket piled high with white linen. A plate with a few slices of bread was resting in her hand and in the other was a steaming kettle.

"Do you need a hand?" Aragorn took a step forward, reaching for the kettle. Elrond and his mama hadn't raised him without manners, after all. She shook her head, favoring Aragorn with a smile that made him uncomfortable.

Setting the plate down, she dropped the basket at their feet and began to pour the heated water into a ceramic basin on the bedside table.

"We weren't planning on staying. We don't want to be a bother," Aragorn said quickly, but once again Bella shook her head.

"Don't dream of it! You can't care for that wound out in the wild. At least bind it and clean it. What harm could come from that?" She smiled again and reached out, laying her hand on his hand. Aragorn jerked back and she tutted. "I just want to take a look your arm. It looks painful."

It was painful, but Aragorn shook his head vehemently. He had taken care of it and there was nothing more they could do besides wait and let his body heal on its own. Well, maybe once they were away from this place he would take a few painkillers, but until then there wasn't anything to be done. She pressed forward and Aragorn backed up until his knees hit the bed.

She continued to advance; her hands coming up to press against his chest. "I just would—"

"—I would like to care for Legolas. May I do so in private?" Aragorn leaned further away, glancing pointedly towards the door. If she came any closer, he was going to end up in Legolas' lap.

"Let me help you, you can't very well do all that needs to be done with just one hand!" She trailed off, still smiling at him.

"I've done it before, and I'll do it again," Aragorn insisted, locking eyes with her. They stared at each other for several long minutes before she broke her gaze. Aragorn stared her right out of the room.

Once the door shut with a soft click, he turned back to Legolas. To his surprise, the elf was smirking.

"Your face is red," he said, shifted on the bed, groaning. Aragorn didn't find it amusing.

"Legolas, she is a _married_ woman."

"Well, you are in a pickle aren't you?"

Aragorn frowned. "Thank you for that wonderful advice, _mellon-nin_. Why I do I keep you around again?"

"Because of my amazing looks, of course." Legolas watched as Aragorn moved the plate of food off to the side and began to crush the herbs over the water, sending a faint tangy aroma through the air.

Aragorn shot him a sideways glare. "Remind me which one of us actually has a serious lady friend?" He sat easily on the bed and helped the elf gingerly roll over onto his side.

Legolas sighed heavily, pillowing his head on his arms. "I'll have to give you that one, Estel. Low blow, though."

Aragorn rolled his eyes, gathering up several of the bandages and dropping them into the water.

"You asked for it," he reminded. He paused, looking back at the elf. "This isn't going to be fun," he warned. Legolas waved a hand at him to continue and Aragorn squeezed the excess water out of a rag. He began to wash the wound, digging out small pieces of dirt. Legolas instantly tensed, his face turning slightly grey. Reaching out, he bunched up the blankets in his fist and bowed his head.

"Do you trust Bella?" Legolas between clenched teeth and Aragorn looked over at him.

"I think that we should leave as soon as we can. After this, we are leaving no matter what she offers. I, personally, would be much more comfortable sleeping on the ground than here."

Legolas grunted in agreement. Aragorn dug the cloth in deeper and the elf hissed a curse as his fingers tightened in the bedclothes. The man tossed the bloodied rag aside and grabbed a new one, scooting closer.

"Hold still," he warned. He bent over the wound, dousing it with warm water. Legolas closed his eyes and after what felt like an eternity, Aragorn dropped the bloodied cloth into the water. He struggled with the needle and thread for a minute, before thrusting it at Legolas.

"This is ridiculous," he complained. "Help me." Legolas gave a faint smile and took it from the man. His hands were shaking, but after a few tries, he managed to get the thread through the eye of the needle.

"That's why you keep me around, to thread needles when you've gone and broken your arm," he said tiredly, laying his head back down. Aragorn snorted, shaking his head.

"That is exactly why I keep you around." He paused, looking at the elf's pallid face. "I can put you to sleep if you think it would be easier." Legolas instantly shook his head and they fell silent as Aragorn began to stitch the wound. It wasn't his neatest work ever, but it would get the job done and keep the elf from bleeding to death.

Once he had finished there, he directed Legolas hold still and started the process anew.

From the other side of the door, they heard Bella start singing again.

 _Two little birds soar high and free_

 _Won't you come down and play with me?_

 _Two little birds land in the big tree,_

 _Won't you come down and play with me?_

"At least she sings well," Aragorn said after a minute when she started the refrain again. He didn't know the meaning behind the song, but he half wished that she would add a second verse. Then maybe at least he would understand. Legolas made a face.

"I don't know if I would say that," he grumbled, tossing an arm over his eyes and taking in deep breaths.

Aragorn began to spread a paste across a fresh bandage and the elf watched him out of the corner of his eye.

"That's going to burn isn't it?"

Aragorn huffed, focused on his work. "Maybe a little. Why do you ask?"

"Because all of your ointments and herbs end up stinging a 'little bit'." Legolas watched him warily but eased himself upright all the same when the man motioned him too. Aragorn began to warp the bandages around his middle and the elf hissed, muttering a few choice words under his breath.

"See, that stings!" he protested and Aragorn opened his mouth, only to shut it. He had been about to make a sarcastic comment about how if Legolas would stop getting injured then he wouldn't be so familiar with what his herbs did or did not do, but a sharp pang of guilt had stopped it.

"There, you should be set for the next little bit." Standing straight, he wiped his hands on his pants. Legolas nodded, breathing a sigh of what could be considered relief.

From somewhere else in the house they heard the front door open and a low rumble of a man's voice echoed back through the walls.

Aragorn and Legolas glanced at each other, unease clear on their faces.

"I'm going to go tell them that we will be leaving," Aragorn said, looking at the door. "Bella won't protest with her husband around, hopefully." Legolas made as if to get up, but Aragorn shook his head firmly. "Stay. I'll be back in just a moment."

"Just don't give that woman another excuse," Legolas cautioned and Aragorn nodded. Striding towards the door, he slipped out of it and into the hallway.

Blessed with years of practice in the art of being soundless, it came as no surprise to him when he found himself almost in the front room without Bella or her husband noticing.

He was just opening his mouth to announce his presence when heard their hushed whispers. Pausing, he listened.

"Who did you take in again?" the man was asking roughly. Aragorn didn't like that tone of voice and he took several steps back, leaning into the shadows.

"Oh, just two strangers. One of them was injured and they didn't have any supplies."

The husband snorted. "Bella! You are too nice for your own good. What did they look like?"

Bella was silent for a minute. "One was dark-haired and tall, had a sword. His name is Strider." He thought he heard her giggle and he melted back into the shadows, face burning. _Her husband was right there!_ "The other one, the one that was injured, is blonde. Lego…Leg something."

Aragorn peaked around the corner, just in time to watch as her husband grabbed her arm and pulled her further into the kitchen.

"They need to leave—now!" he snarled, looking around. Aragorn pressed back into the shadows, his hand going to his sword.

"What? Why?" Bella yanked her arm free and stood there, hands on her hips. The man paused, looking around him once more and lowering his voice.

"I saw them traveling along Deadman's gully yesterday when I was out hunting and before the storm hit." His voice dropped and Aragorn inched forward, his interested peaked. Could it be that he knew something about how they had ended up as they had?

"They were fighting, Bella." He glanced around again, shifting closer to his wife. "It came to blows real quick. The dark haired one had a sword, and well…"

Aragorn made a face. That was impossible! If he _had_ been the one to injure Legolas it would have been in the heat of battle. Not like that.

Bella laughed nervously. "But they were both injured and unconscious on the cliff."

Aragorn frowned, thinking hard. He hadn't remembered mentioning _that_ to Bella, he hadn't told her anything… He began to back up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Legolas was right, they should have been long gone by now.

The man only snorted. "After trying to kill him, the dark haired one dumped his body off the cliff. I don't know how he ended up there. Maybe he tripped."

"But Strider is so devoted to him!" Bella's voice faded as a dark feeling entered Aragorn's heart.

"I don't know," the man repeated, "guilt can be a powerful thing. Or maybe they were drinking. _I don't know_ , but we should be careful around them. _You_ should be careful around them."

Bella began to say something on his behalf but he had heard enough. Skin crawling, Aragorn bolted back up the hallway and let himself back into the spare room.

Legolas looked up and instantly tried to sit up straighter. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Aragorn lied but the elf could read him better than almost anyone else.

"Something is wrong."

Aragorn moved and began to stuff the herbs into the pouch, tying it to his belt. "We need leave," he said softly, "Now."

"That's what I've been telling you," Legolas muttered good-naturedly under his breath. Inching forward, he moved to swing his legs off the side of his bed. He stopped, his face turning every shade between grey and green. He let out a shaky sigh and his body slumped forward as he rested his head against his clenched fist.

"I know." Aragorn laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly before he began to wind Legolas' cloak around the prince's shoulders. "Here, lean on me."

Legolas reached out blindly until he found Aragorn's shoulder. Gripping it tightly levered himself onto his feet, swaying. Aragorn clutched his upper arm firmly, holding him upright against his own body while his arm snaked around his waist.

There was a sharp knock at the door and Aragorn and Legolas looked at each other. The knock sounded again, followed by Bella's voice.

"Strider, is everything alright in there?"

Aragorn glanced around wildly, but there was nowhere to go. The knock came again, more persistent.

"Everything's fine!" he called, hoping against hope that she would just leave them alone. All they would need is a few minutes and they could disappear into the night.

"My husband just got back and he is wondering if you like to join us for dinner."

"We're good!"

There was silence on the other side of the door and they waited with bated breath.

"We really must insist. We have something we would like to discuss with you."

Aragorn and Legolas shared looks. "No, thank you. We really need to be leaving." Aragorn called again and Bella tried the door. Aragorn had locked it upon returning and she rattled the doorknob.

"Strider, I really must insist that you join us for dinner. Open this door." Her voice had gone icy and Aragorn glanced at the elf.

"We might be able to fight our way out, but…" If it had just been Bella, he would have pushed his way through right now without a second thought. But that husband had been armed and they were both injured.

Legolas nodded in understanding.

"We are just going to play this by ear," he whispered, lightly squeezing the man's arm. Legolas' grip was feeble and the guilt from before bubbled up in Aragorn's stomach as he looked into Legolas' tired eyes, eyes that would usually shine with life and energy. He wouldn't have stabbed Legolas. He just wouldn't have…

Legolas was watching him and his eyes narrowed as he tilted his head to the side.

"Estel?" he asked and Aragorn shook himself free.

"Strider?" The doorknob rattled again and they both tensed.

"We're coming!" Aragorn called impatiently.

"We?" Bella laughed. "Oh, well, I thought your friend would need his rest. I left some food for him earlier. Just _you_ would be best."

Aragorn's eyes grew wide and he glanced at the elf for help. Legolas shrugged.

"Alright, I'll be out in just a second! Just…" he trailed off. "Just hold your horses," he muttered under his breath.

Legolas grabbed his arm as Aragorn turned them back towards the bed. "What happened when you went out there just now?" he asked in a hurried whisper. Aragorn only shook his head.

"I'll tell you more later, but they know things that they shouldn't know." Aragorn pushed the elf to lay flat on the bed, keeping his hand on his shoulder.

"Like what?" the elf asked, catching Aragorn's sleeve and holding him there. "Estel, talk to me. Tell me what is going on."

The knocked came at the door again and Aragorn glanced back. "They knew that—"

"Strider, the food is getting cold!" Aragorn swore under his breath and got to his feet, gently detangling the elf's hands.

"I'll be back as soon as I can and then we will leave. I promise," he whispered.

"Estel," Legolas reached out, forcing the man to look at him. "Estel, I'm coming with you!" he protested, trying to get up but the man gently pushed him back down. "But you can't go out there alone, not if you think that something is wrong."

"If we play by their rules then we might be able to get out of here without any further mishap," Aragorn said, keeping a firm hand on the elf's shoulder. Legolas relented, sinking back into the bed.

"Be careful," he implored.

Aragorn nodded, shrugging helplessly as Bella knocked again. With one last look at the injured elf, he slipped out the door.

Legolas was left alone in the ever-growing darkness. Pulling his cloak tighter around his body, he remained on the edge of the bed staring out after his friend. Aragorn wasn't telling him something, something important.

Tucking his hands under his cloak, he waited.

THEDEADLYONES

Bella was smiling at Aragorn as he stepped through the door.

"This way," she said as she began to walk hurriedly, a small skip in her step. Aragorn trailed behind her, glancing back over his shoulder.

"Strider, Ralf. Ralf, Strider," Bella announced as they entered the kitchen and waved a hand towards her husband. Ralf was a lean man. He clearly worked hard and Aragorn could feel callouses as they hesitantly shook hands.

Ralf nodded towards the table, and they moved to sit down while Bella buzzed around the kitchen, singing the same song as before to herself.

"Why couldn't Legolas join me?" Aragorn demanded. Ralf frowned for a minute before a smile lightened his face.

"Oh, you mean your friend. Rest is what is important after an injury, not food or company." Aragorn accepted the tankard of ale that Ralf passed to him and moved to sit at the edge of his seat. He watched Ralf take several deep gulps of his ale, not touching his own.

"Come on! Drink up!" Motioning for Aragorn to take a swig, he waited until Aragorn had done so before continuing to drink from his own.

Bella plunked a plate full of food down before them and seated herself at the table. Aragorn again waited for both them to start eating before he even dared touch his food.

"Can I take some back to Legolas?" he asked as soon as he felt that he had eaten enough. Bella smiled at him.

"I already gave you food for him." It took Aragorn a moment to remember the small plate of bread that she had taken into the room. That was nothing compared to the well laid out table they were eating from. "Besides, there is something we want to ask you." She wiped at her mouth, looking at her husband. Ralf belched loudly, turning to face Aragorn.

"Did you try to murder your friend?" he asked without preamble.

"No!" Aragorn shook his head, surprised. He didn't know what he had expected but this was not it. "I have never and will _never_ kill for sake of killing."

"Really?" Ralf leaned forward on his elbows. "Sometimes even good men come to their limits and snap. There is nothing wrong with that." Bella nodded in agreement and reached out, laying a hand on his arm. Aragorn shifted, pulling his arm off the table.

"There is never any excuse for unneeded violence," Aragorn snapped.

"So you did try to kill him?" Ralf leaned forward, staring hard at him.

"What, no! Did you not listen to a word I said? I have never laid a hand on him." Aragorn shoved his plate away.

"How was he injured then?"

Aragorn sighed, tossing his knife onto his plate with a clatter. "I don't know," he admitted, running a hand over his face.

Ralf and Bella shared knowing looks. "So you don't know what happened, yet you two were the only ones running around Deadman's gully the other day. If it had been orcs, they would have finished the job."

Aragorn shook his head again. "Listen, I may not know what happened but I do know that I wouldn't lay a hand on my friends. What about you? You were out there."

Ralf's eyes narrowed. "I have no reason to harm him, but I heard you two. I was hunting and I heard you fighting." Ralf reached across the table, jabbing Aragorn in the chest with his finger.

"You—You were yelling at him. 'Oh, Legolas, stop treating like I'm a child. I may be younger in years, but in terms of being an adult, I'm older'." Ralf mocked, snorting. Aragorn flushed, anger bubbling in his stomach.

Ralf only continued. " 'And just because you think that the human race is weaker doesn't mean that they aren't worth any less than the elves'." Ralf paused again, breathing heavily as he locked eyes with Aragorn. "And the elf…well, he kept yelling that he has more trust in you then you will ever realize, what your friendship has cost him at home and— and that you never listen to him. Sound familiar?"

The last few words were almost spat out and Aragorn stared at him, his mouth hanging open. That sounded exactly like things that he and Legolas did say when they were angry; goodness knows it had happened before. Not very often, but it had happened.

"And your name isn't Strider," Ralf added, pounding the last nail in. "That elf called you something different. Something strange. Aragorn, wasn't it?

How on earth could have Ralf known that? How had they known? Unless…

The thought made him want to physically throw up and he briefly considered asking for a bucket. How had they known unless it actually happened?

"I—I" He couldn't find any words, the image of Legolas on the ground in the rain and his sword next to him, covered in blood, rising to the forefront of his mind.

"So you did it! You tried to kill your friend."

"Of course he didn't _try_ to do it." Bella jumped to his defense as she began to clear the table. "Sometimes accidents just happen to the best of us."

"But—" Aragorn couldn't find the words to express what he was thinking. "No, accidents don't just happen, not ones like that."

"Have you even told him what you did yet?" Bella's voice was soft but it stopped Aragorn up short.

"I didn't do it." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear. "I would never turn on him." Ralf raised an eyebrow.

"You were angry," Bella returned to the table, covering his hand with her own. "It happens."

"That is never an excuse," Aragorn stated, shaking his head. "Listen, I think I need to go talk with Legolas. Thanks for the meal."

"You were his friend. He put his trust in you and you betrayed it." Ralf was shaking his head sadly. "You lost your temper one time and you can't repair the damage that was done. He is going to die because of you."

"No, he isn't going to die. The wound is not that bad." Aragorn rounded on Ralf, his hand clenching into a fist at his side.

"Really? You stabbed him through the gut. That seems pretty bad to me."

"He didn't look good when I saw him," Bella added unhelpfully. "He couldn't even stand on his own."

"He'll be fine—if I go see to him," Aragorn growled, taking a menacing step forward.

"No, no he won't." Bella came over to stand next to him, her wide eyes gazing up at him. "His best friend tried to kill him; he is never going to trust you as he did before."

"I—didn't—try—to—kill—him!" Aragorn swore, knocking her hand away and backing up. His face flushed red but Ralf was right there, blocking his exit.

"Sit back down," he growled, pointing at the chair. Aragorn moved forward, thrusting his face into the Ralf's.

"Legolas and I are leaving, right now," he announced icily, trying to push past him. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Ralf held his ground as Bella latched onto Aragorn's arm.

"Stop touching me! And get out of my way!"

"Please…" she begged, tears welling up slowly in her eyes. Aragorn shook his head, jerking himself free from her grip. "Please stay."

Ralf was still standing in the doorway. "We just want to help you," he said, his eyes meeting Aragorn's. "We want to help you make things right. Stay and just listen, please."

"No!" Aragorn spat. "We are leaving. Move or you will be moved." He took another step forward, ready to physically move the man but Bella was grabbing at his arm again. Feeling a sharp pain in the crook of his elbow, Aragorn wheeled around to face her, but it was too late.

The small dart she had been holding was embedded in his arm. A strange fuzziness washed over Aragorn and the room wavered around him. It didn't take long for whatever she had just introduced into his system to take further effect and Aragorn felt his knees buckle. His eyes rolled back in his head and he hit the ground with a loud thump. He didn't get up.

"Well…" Ralf said after a moment, frowning. "He might be a tough one."

Bella's face creased and she turned to him, searching his eyes. "But we will get him there, we always do." She suddenly grinned, stepping over Aragorn's prone body and planting a light kiss on her husband's cheek. "It'll be fun, just wait and see."

TBC...

 **Well, as Legolas would put it, they are in a pickle now. The poor dears. :)**

 **Feel free to tell me what you thought! The good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry I missed posting last week. Final projects and all that good stuff...and the thought of even trying to post was plain exhausting, not going to lie. Anyway! I AM FREE! So yeah. There shouldn't be any more missed updates for a while.**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Five

 _Two little birds soar high and free_

 _Won't you come down and play with me?_

 _Two little birds land in the tree,_

 _Won't you come down and play with me?_

 _One little bird said oh yes please,_

 _I'll come down and play with thee._

 _The other little bird said no, not for me,_

 _I won't come down to play with thee._

Bella's soft singing was the first thing that Aragorn recognized upon awakening, the second being the harsh rope that was binding his good arm behind his back and his legs together. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to figure out where he was. Bella kept singing, Ralf's baritone joining in occasionally with her.

The whistle of a knife being sharpened made Aragorn's heart rate skyrocket.

 _The second little bird tried to flee,_

 _Never coming down to play with me._

 _But the first little bird stays in the tree,_

 _Always coming down to play with me._

The new verses to the song didn't give Aragorn any comfort. Cracking an eyelid, he kept his head hanging awkwardly to the side. Bella was sitting next to him in a rocking chair, happily singing away as she rocked back and forth, sewing a patch into a sweater. The fire crackled merrily in the corner. Ralf was sitting on the hearth, sharpening a small knife.

Trying not to move, Aragorn glanced around for Legolas. He found him a moment later and felt his heart drop. Legolas' wrist had been bound, just as he was, but he was lying face down on the ground. Aragorn couldn't tell if he was awake or not and another thrill of panic shot through him.

Closing his eyes again, he suffered through two more refrains of the song. Bella finally stopped singing and her skirts swished against the ground as she stood up.

"When do you think he will wake?" The annoyance in her voice was clear and Aragorn kept his eyes firmly closed. Ralf sighed from across the room.

"He will wake when he wakes, my love, you can't rush these things." Bella sighed dramatically; flopping back down the rocking chair which began to creak again.

Legolas moaned from across the room and Aragorn silently begged the elf to remain still and silent. He didn't know who Bella or Ralf really were, but they had people tethered up in their living room and Bella was knitting. That just wasn't right.

Bella sighed again and the smell of her perfume suddenly washed over him. Her fingers lightly trailed down his face, pausing at his chin.

"We should shave his beard," she giggled at the thought, her fingers absentmindedly petting the scruff along his face.

"Whatever you think is best, dear."

Aragorn internally shuddered. If they touched his face with a razor then he would dislocate his arm to get out of there. Legolas moaned again, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'Estel'.

Bella's fingers clamped down on his face.

"Shut him up, will you!" she demanded as if Legolas was a noisy dog next door. Ralf's heavy footsteps crossed the room and Aragorn couldn't help but flinch at the sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh. Legolas let out a shuddering breath and didn't make another sound.

A second smack sounded all the same and Aragorn blinked his eyes open. He found himself staring directly into Bella's bright blue eyes. She gave a short little squeal and Aragorn jerked back.

"You're awake! Ralf, he's awake!" She twirled around, her long hair flying around her. Gone was the young women from before and Aragorn couldn't even recognize who he saw in front of him now.

"What do you want?" His voice cracked but Bella just grinned. Ralf glided over, leaving Legolas alone, and pulled her to a stop with an equally unnerving grin. A bruise the size of a fist was darkening the side of Ralf's face and if he hadn't been in the position that he was, Aragorn would have grinned. Legolas never did go down without a fight.

"To play the Game, that's all." She seemed far too excited and Aragorn felt sick. "You want to play the Game too, I know you do." She giggled, running her hand over his face once more.

"I don't want to play," he immediately spat, trying to pull away from her fingers. She frowned, tilting her head to the side.

"No, you want to play. You choose to play the Game and you have to see it through." Ralf nodded, bracing her shoulders tightly.

Aragorn shook his head. "I don't want to play," he repeated. "I forfeit. You win. Game over."

Bella sighed, her hands bracketing her hips. "That's not how the Game works!" she chided as if she was talking to a young child.

Aragorn glanced back over at Legolas, but the elf was still face down and didn't show any sign of stirring anytime soon. "What kind of game is it?" he finally asked.

"If we told you we couldn't play," Ralf went over to the kitchen and began to prepare three glasses of wine. It was unnerving. If it hadn't been for the ropes and Legolas being beaten soundless in the corner, they could have been sitting down and discussing this year's harvest. "It will be the most fun you will ever have. Or at least that we—" he smiled at Bella, brushing the top of her head with his lips. "—will have. Here, drink."

Bella took two of the glasses from her husband and held the first to Aragorn's lips. Aragorn firmly pressed his mouth shut and turned his head to the side.

"Oh, come along. It's only wine," she wheedled but Aragorn wasn't budging.

"You are both crazy," he hissed and paid for it as the cup clanked against his teeth. Growling, Bella grabbed him by his hair and yanked his head back until he was forced to open his mouth. Dumping the wine down his throat she laughed as Aragorn began to choke and cough.

It seemed to satisfy her, however, and she simply wiped at his face with her apron before moving to sit down and sip at her own tall glass.

"What do you want from us?" Aragorn demanded once he had the breath to do so. "And I thought you wanted me to leave!" He turned a glare on Ralf. "You said so. You wanted us out of the house and I would be more than happy to oblige if you would kindly remove the ropes."

Ralf only shrugged. "The door in the spare bedroom squeaks. We knew you were coming out to talk with us and people can't resist a heated conversation. We thought it best to break the news to you that you had killed your friend when you thought we didn't know you were there. That way you wouldn't pretend that we were just lying to you."

Aragorn stared at him, his eyebrow raising. "You're both crazy," he stated again. "And for the last time, I did not try and kill Legolas. He's not dead!"

Ralf barked a laugh. "Bella, he thinks we are crazy!" He began to laugh and Bella joined in, her head thrown back.

"You both are crazy," Aragorn muttered under his breath, watching as they moved towards each other and shared a passionate kiss. He looked away, completely disturbed.

At long last, the couple broke apart and Ralf said something too low for Aragorn to hear. He disappeared down towards the cellar and he was left with Bella staring at him.

"Can I check on Legolas?" he asked after a minute. "I promise that I won't try and escape or anything." He tested the waters carefully, unsure of how much ground he was going to gain.

"What, _him_ ," she glanced over at the elf, her nose curling up as if she was looking at something dirty. "He didn't want to play the Game. Don't worry about him."

Aragorn glared at her. "What do you mean?"

"He is of no concern, at least for now. He will stay there until we have need of him." Aragorn was saved from having to think too deeply about that thought by the return of Ralf. The man was holding a tray with several long, thin, and dangerous looking darts on it.

Aragorn really didn't want to think about where they would be ending up and he pushed the legs of his chair back, trying to get as far away from them as he could.

"Oh, don't be afraid of them." Bella went over, picking one up. She examined it for a second, but Ralf shook his head and pointed to another one. Her eyes shone and she picked it up. Coming back over to Aragorn, she began to hum to herself. Aragorn shook his head wildly, trying to pull away.

"Don't—you—dare!" he began to thrash, fighting the bonds until Ralf grunted in frustration. Pushing forward, he smacked Aragorn around the head but that only caused the ranger to fight back harder. The chair that he was tied too tipped dangerously on two legs but Ralf seized it and smashing it back down before grabbing Aragorn by the chin.

"Hold still," Ralf hissed, his face an inch from Aragorn's face. "Understood?"

Aragorn spat in the man's face and Ralf howled, letting go of Aragorn. He slapped him hard across the face before slamming the hilt of his knife into Aragorn's temple. The blow was solid and by time Aragorn blinked himself back into awareness Bella had his sleeve rolled up and his arm laid out. Taking the dart expertly in her left hand, she felt along his arm until she had found a vein. With a quick jab, she deftly inserted the thin dart.

Aragorn hissed, clenching his teeth, and waiting for whatever poison had just been inserted to take effect. This one didn't act as fast as the last one but it still didn't take long for everything to feel…out of focus. His body felt oddly light and his vision hazed slightly.

Bella went back to her sweater, still humming that song.

"You know," she began to say, holding up the sweater to the light and examining her stitches. "It really is a blessing that we found you when we did. No one would want to be around a killer," she smiled gently at him.

Aragorn refused to look at her. "I am not a killer."

"Don't tell me that you haven't been thinking those thoughts." Ralf was standing over him, watching what was happening and Aragorn turned his eyes away from his cold face and towards Legolas' still form. "You killed someone; it's natural to feel bad about it."

"Legolas is not dead," Aragorn snapped, shaking his head in exasperation. The drug was making his heart speed and he could feel his adrenaline kicking. Slowing, he forced himself to take deep even breathes.

"Not yet. But you will have killed him before the week is over," Ralf promised, grinning. "You've killed him by just be being around him. He was doomed since the moment he laid eyes on you."

Aragorn shook his head angrily but didn't say anything else. He thought he heard Legolas move and he glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. The elf was as still as ever and for a moment, he wondered if the elf was dead. Dead people didn't move.

His own heart tripped at the thought and he took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow. Legolas wasn't dead. Legolas wasn't dead. Legolas wasn't dead…

Bella watched him, the sweater lowering into her lap.

"Don't worry, sweetie. We aren't going to judge you for it. Again, you should be very grateful that it was us that found the body. We aren't going to judge you for being a monster."

Aragorn turned to look at her, unsure of how he had ever thought of her as nice, maybe a little overzealous, but nice. "You will find a decent place in hell," he spat. She sighed, shaking her head. They set in silence for several long minutes.

"Let me guess," Aragorn finally said, rolling his head back and looked from Bella and Ralf. "The 'game' is to see if you can turn me into a killer? Because that...that isn't going to work. I know that haven't murdered anyone and I'm not about to start to whatever mind games you might play or however much drugs you might give me."

Ralf simply smiled and Aragorn suddenly felt he had missed the mark by quite a few inches.

Bella held the sweater close to her face. "Besides," she said, her voice muffled. "You already committed murder once. I don't know how you can live with yourself, always lying like that. Maybe you have murder more people and you just won't acknowledge it."

Aragorn fell mute again. He leaned his head back against the stone and closed his eyes. In his mind's eye, he saw Rivendell, a place of peace… _his_ place of peace. He could hear the falls crashing around him, the birds singing and the twins sniggering. He could almost taste the heavenly food that would be set for dinner at Elrond's table, could smell the wholesome herb scent that seemed to follow his father around.

He kept his eyes closed as Bella's and Ralf's voices drifted across to him, still accusing him of things that he had never and would never do.

Imladris has the most beautiful flowers in the spring and in the fall…the leaves were breathtaking. The bright red, oranges and yellows that crested every tree would cause wonder in any being lucky to see its unpreceded beauty. It was easily one of the most beautiful places he had ever been, except maybe Lothlórien.

He could feel his eyes growing heavy and allowed sleep to claim him as he dwelled on Imladris in all her beauty.

His sleeping dream was wild.

 _At first, he found himself simply wandering around Imladris, talking with his father and brothers. Elrond was saying that Lórien was the most stunning thing he had ever laid eyes on and that Imladris paled in comparison. Aragorn was convinced that it was the opposite and that Imladris held something special, but then Legolas had jumped into the conversation. He was saying Mirkwood was more beautiful than the other two combined._

 _Aragorn kept trying to break the news to him that Mirkwood…well, it wasn't that pretty. It was called Mirkwood for a reason. Legolas was angry, telling the man that he knew nothing. A trickle of blood began to run out of the side of his mouth and Aragorn glanced down. A deep red stain was beginning to spread across the elf's stomach and side but Legolas didn't seem to notice anything off as Aragorn moved forward, desperately trying to staunch the blood flow._

 _Elrond just stood there, frowning. "That look's bad. You might want to do something about it, ion-nin." His eyes were so sad that Aragorn felt his heart break in half. He was trying, but his own hands were covered in blood, he couldn't get it to stop._

" _You did it, didn't you?"_

" _I didn't! I didn't!" Aragorn protested, still trying to stop the bleeding but Legolas was dead in his arms. His sightless eyes stared straight ahead into nothing. His body was cold._

 _Elladan tutted. "I don't think I want to live next to a monster. A kin-slayer." He looked at his twin who was nodding._

" _I don't think Arwen will either. Murderer." He sighed and Aragorn turned back to them._

" _I didn't! I didn't kill him."_

 _Elrond sighed, walking across the gully that they were suddenly in and picking up Aragorn's sword. It was still stained with Legolas' blood and the world came crashing down as the three moved around him, chanting murderer as he clutched Legolas' dead body._

Aragorn awake with a start, gasping for air and sweat lining his face.

The room was dark except for a faint light from a few smoldering embers. Bella and Ralf were nowhere to be seen and he breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to shake the dream off, Aragorn looked around, still shaking.

"Aragorn?" Legolas' voice made him jump and he turned towards the elf. Legolas was alive! The feelings of relief that washed over him made him dizzy. Legolas had shifted onto his side, but his back was to Aragorn.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked in return. Glancing around for their captors he began to ease himself off the chair. The idiots hadn't actually tied him too it.

"Are you alright?" Legolas' tone was weak but concerned.

"Yes, I'm _fine_." Aragorn glared at the elf's back. He wasn't the one who had a gaping wound in his stomach. "How are you?" He hit the ground rather harder than he had meant to and winced at the thud. Waiting to see if Bella or Ralf would emerge, he then scooted towards his friend.

"I'm good," Legolas insisted. Aragorn (who was suddenly very grateful that the living room was no bigger) collapsed down next to him. There was a strong sent of iron surrounding the elf and Aragorn frowned.

"You are bleeding!" he accused. Struggling up onto his knees, he swore in frustration. The broken arm had been replaced in an extremely tight sling, but that was no better having it tied behind his back like his other one. He leaned over Legolas, trying to get a look at his wound, but the elf was in the shadows. Legolas shrugged, twisting his head to meet Aragorn's gaze. He didn't appear to have enough energy to roll all the way over and Aragorn's heart clenched.

"It's not that bad," Legolas insisted, the pain in his voice clear. Aragorn didn't believe him, not for one second.

"Your face tells a different story," he stated, calling him out on the lie. Dark blood matted the side of his head and one eye was swollen shut. "What did they do to you?" Aragorn collapsed onto his side and shifted closer until their shoulders were touching.

"They—it's nothing I haven't had before," Legolas assured the man even as he let his head drop tiredly back towards the floor.

"How's your wound?" Aragorn asked, letting his eyes close tiredly. He was having trouble thinking clearly and that frustrated him more than anything.

Legolas hesitated. "It's fine," he finally said. Aragorn didn't believe him but he didn't have the energy to fight it right then.

He shifted closer to his friend, glancing around at the room. Legolas let out a shaky breath and Aragorn closed his eyes, guilt lapping up his insides. "I'm sorry, Legolas…I should have listened to you. We should have never set foot inside this house. I'm sorry."

"Don't, Aragorn." He felt Legolas start to shake his head. "Just…don't. This is no one's fault, alright?"

Aragorn didn't answer and they sat in silence.

"We are going to get out here, don't worry, Aragorn," Legolas whispered. "Don't give up hope." Aragorn nodded, blinking harder. All he could see was Legolas dead and his brothers telling him to get lost once they learned that he had been the one to handle the weapon. He let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm going to see if I can find a knife of some sorts," Aragorn got back onto his knees and began to search around the room, looking for anything that he could use to cut his bonds. Bella and Ralf seemed to feel completely safe but that didn't mean that they weren't stupid.

All the knives in the kitchen were gone, located away somewhere. There was a decorative figurine on one of the low tables and Aragorn paused. Reaching out, he nudged it closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm going to break something," he warned Legolas. The elf's shoulders' tensed but he didn't protest. "Do you think they are stupid enough to fall for it if they do wake up?" He didn't clarify what 'it' was but Legolas seemed to know. He shrugged.

"It will probably work better than it ever did on orcs…or your father. To be fair I didn't know what we were thinking when we tried to pull that one on him." The humor was clear in Legolas' breathy voice and for the first time that night Aragorn smiled. Glancing back at what he thought was the master bedroom, he hoped that Bella and Ralf were deep sleepers, and shoved the figurine of the table.

It crashed to the ground, splitting into different pieces. Hurriedly sinking down towards them, Aragorn began to grab at the shards with his hand. He glanced anxiously over at the door, his fingers slipping and the glass cut into his skin.

Legolas was still, waiting for the same thing that he was. A lamp flickered to life beneath the door and Aragorn swore. Jamming a piece of glass into his thumb, he shifted just enough to slide it out and into the fabric of his sleeve.

The door burst open and Ralf stood over them, Bella hovering behind him. Both stared at Aragorn in shock. Aragorn rolled unto his side, blinking his eyes and looking around in confusion.

"What… what happened?" Aragorn asked, clearing his throat.

Ralf and Bella simply stared.

"What happened?" Bella demanded in turn, stepping around her husband and staring at him.

"I—I don't know." Aragorn squinted his eyes up at them. His thumb was bleeding badly and he squeezed it tight in his fist. "I was asleep and then I woke up over here with my head aching and you both standing over me, yelling."

Ralf shared a dark look with Bella.

"I don't believe you," he stated starting toward the man with a clenched fist.

"Well, you should!" Legolas voice cut through the air and Bella and Ralf blinked in surprise, turning to face their other captive. "Strider sleepwalks all the time, kind of a problem."

"What do you mean?" Bella kicked out the elf, catching him high in the ribs and Legolas grunted. He breathed in deeply, his breath catching. "I asked you a question! What do you mean?"

"He sleepwalks. You know? Walks when he is asleep? Again kind of a problem. One time he ended in a lake before he woke up, that was amusing. Another time he kept asking me if I had a frying pan and was all for cooking dinner, only he tried to do it over a dead fire so the fish wasn't that great." Legolas was rambling, his voice breathless and shaking but their captors simply stared at them in confusion. He paused and Bella aimed another kick at him, the anger in her face ugly.

"We know what sleepwalking is," Ralf finally snapped and they turned towards back to Aragorn. He eyed him up and down, frowning. Aragorn tried to make his face as innocent as he could and Bella's face softened.

"Let's take him back over by the chair," she said softly, her hands lightly touching her husband's arm. Grabbing Aragorn's ropes, Ralf began to haul him back into the living room. Plopping him down onto the chair, he turned to his wife.

"Well, we are up now?" he trailed off, raising an eyebrow and she yawned through her nod. He turned and crossed over the cellar where he began to descend back into the depth. Aragorn got a sick feeling in his stomach and he could clearly see Legolas' shoulders tense.

Somehow he had a feeling that this wasn't going to end well for them.

 **TBC...**

 **Well, they are not wrong about that...**

 **Feel free to drop a review by and tell me what was good or what was bad. I'm a tough cookie, I can handle it. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Haha, I thought that I would have more time over the break...Ha. HAhaha. Sorry, I didn't respond to any of the reviews, I loved and appreciated each and every single one of them. Thank you to everyone who is reading this. I would love to hear your thought! Also, sorry that this may not be up to par, once again I am lacking on time.**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Six

Bella stared after Ralf for a moment, before pulling out her knife and walking over to where Legolas was lying.

"I thought he wasn't part of the game!" Aragorn protested, watching in horror as she began to cut the elf loose from where he was hanging. Legolas dropped like a sack of potatoes and Bella reached down to pull him up.

Legolas was instantly moving. Jerking upright, he wrapped an arm around her throat with one hand while the other clamped down on her small wrist until she let the knife fall with a clatter. Nimbly scooping it up, he pressed it against her throat.

"One wrong move and you die," he hissed and she nodded once, eyes wide. Awkwardly keeping the knife in place, Legolas struggled to his knees. Aragorn winced, seeing the elf face in the full light of the lantern. Blood was coating his face and neck, waring against a massive bruise for dominion. His tunic was stained red from his earlier wound and Aragorn felt sick. It looked too much like his dream.

Taking a deep breath, Legolas attempted to keep his arm around Bella's neck and struggle to his feet. Sensing his weakness, Bella began to thrash but Legolas' arm became steel around her throat. She let out a squeak, gasping as her face turned white and her fingers scrambled for purchase against his arm.

Aragorn smiled grimly, looking with apprehension to where Ralf had disappeared. They didn't have much time.

Legolas closed his eyes again, resting his head against Bella's shoulder as he his chest heaved. His eyes weren't focusing correctly but all the same, he staggered to his feet. The world went white around Legolas and he stumbled. Bella once again began to attack him, lashing out wildly in his arms.

Once his world stopped spinning, Legolas found himself sagged against the wall and Bella almost loose in his grip. She began to draw in deep breaths, coughing, and Legolas tightened his grip once more. The sound of Ralf's returning footsteps echoed up from the other room and Legolas began to drag Bella towards Aragorn.

Weaving like a drunk man, he had to stop as the world turned on its axis and he couldn't keep his orientation straight. He was only a few feet from Aragorn when Ralf walked through the door and saw what was happening.

The bottles he was holding crashed to the ground and with an enraged howl, he lunged towards Legolas, hands outstretched.

"Stop! Stop right there!" Legolas demanded, bringing the knife up once again and holding it dangerously close to Bella's throat. Ralf slid to a stop, anger crackling in the air around him as Bella gasped for air.

"Put her down," he growled, his fingers clenching and unclenching.

"Untie Strider," Legolas insisted, his own eyes sparkling with anger. Sweat was building on his face and Aragorn locked eyes with him, silently willing him to hold on for just a few more seconds. The elf blinked rapidly, swaying alarmingly. Bella looked desperately over at her husband from underneath the elf's arm.

"How do I know that you won't just slit her throat as soon as I do that?" Ralf asked. Legolas' arm tightened in warning. "Alright, alright!" Ralf hurried to move back a few steps, stumbling over his feet and coming to a stop next to Aragorn. Flicking out his own knife, he paused, turning to look back at Legolas.

Legolas glared right back at him, Moving impossibly slow, Ralf began to cut the ropes that bound Aragorn's feet.

"Quicker," Legolas demanded. If anything, Ralf's motions slowed. Legolas took in a deep breath, his face paling a notch as he remained standing. Aragorn watched in terror as the pair stumbled a few steps forward again as Legolas tried in vain to keep his balance. Bella snarled, her fingers digging into Legolas' arm with a vengeance and Ralf stopped to watch them, the knife forgotten in his hands. Legolas was shaking his head, trying to clear it.

"Untie…untie Strider," he managed again before his eyes rolled back into his head and his arm went lax. They crashed together into the floor under his dead weight, Bella coughing and gagging. As soon as she hit the ground she began to untangle herself from Legolas.

Limping to her feet, she collapsed against her husband, shaking in terror. Ralf clung to her, but his eyes never moved from Legolas and he stepped back until his feet found Aragorn's ankle and he stomped on it, keeping him in place. Aragorn snarled up at the man, earning himself a strong kick to the head. Dazed, he watched as Bella let go of her husband to aim a vicious kick at to Legolas' already bloodied bodied.

Legolas rolled limply over with the force of it. A nerve-racking silence took over the small cottage only broken by their heavy breathing. Aragorn watched Legolas urgently, waiting for a sign of life to return to him. Bella was the first to move. Still shaking, she returned to her husband and wrapped her arms around him.

"I…none of the rest have done that," she whispered and Ralf just nodded and took her hand, pressing it against his lips. He began to sing softly, stroking her hair.

 _The second little bird tried to flee,_

 _Never coming down to play with me,_

 _But the first little bird stays in the tree,_

 _Always there to play with me, play with me,_

He threw Legolas a look that could have killed and Aragorn shrank back. He had the sinking suspicion that they were the birds and that Legolas wasn't going to last much longer according to the words of the song. Bella let out a long sigh, relaxing.

"Honey," Ralf pulled back, brushing his lips across the top of her head. "Bring me those, will you?" He pointed at the darts. She bent and began to gather up the remains of the fallen bottles, sweeping the broken ones into a pile with the edge of her nightgown.

"Don't, it wasn't Legolas fault!" Aragorn sat up, turning to face his captors. "It wasn't him! I convinced Legolas to do it!" At this point, he was willing to do anything to change the focus back him and away from Legolas. Otherwise, well, he didn't want to know the otherwise.

Ralf meanwhile had toed Legolas over onto his back, hatred clear in his eyes, before hoisting his limp body up into a sitting position. Legolas head flopped forward, his arms hanging at his side.

"Don't touch him" Aragorn growled, struggling to get to his knees. Ralf simply glared at him.

"Stay over though!" he ordered darkly. "And don't say another word." He looked about ready to murder Legolas right then and there on the spot so Aragorn quickly shut his mouth. He wasn't going to be the cause of death, heaven help him.

Bella knelt next to her husband, handing over the bottles and the darts. Ralf sneered at Aragorn, unscrewing the bottle and dipping the dart into its contents. Aragorn's stomach churned, but all he could do was watch with mounting horror as Ralf shoved Legolas head back. Finding a vein, he not so gently inserted the small piece of wood into his skin and waited.

Nothing seemed to happen and Bella frowned, wiping at her tear stained face.

"Now, Aragorn," Ralf let the elf slide to the floor and got to his feet, brushing off his hands. Aragorn narrowed his eyes, scowling hard at him and the man sighed. "Don't give me that look! He deserved it; he tried to kill my wife. He deserves a painful death…well, maybe he won't die. I don't know how this," he twirled the now bloodied dart in lightly in his hand, "might react with elves, but give it a few hours and we will know one way or the other…" he chuckled darkly and Aragorn swore in his heart that they would get free and when they did, Ralf and Bella were going to have something to answer for.

Besides, Legolas was made of stronger material than those two crazy bats realized; Legolas would live. Aragorn would not accept anything less than that.

Bella sniffled, sitting back down by Aragorn and running a hand through his hair. He jerked back but she didn't stop.

"You've truly joined the ranks of murder and torturing. If he hadn't been trying to save you, he would live." Bella said, looking gleeful as she turned to face Aragorn. He could only stare at them, shaking his head. He couldn't deny the last part, and he couldn't count the number of times that Legolas had done the same before.

"You both are _monsters,_ " he whispered. Bella reached out, slapping him hard across the face.

"You, you are the monster that is destroying his life," she snarled. "Don't you ever call us that again."

"I'm just stating the truth," Aragorn tried to smile, but only earned himself another slap.

Ralf grabbed his wife's wrist before a third one could come his way.

"It's been a long night….he doesn't mean it. Let's go back to bed, everything will feel better in the morning." Bella glared at him for a minute but nodded. Getting to her feet, she made sure that she stepped on Legolas fingers before crossing to the bedroom.

Ralf sighed, shaking his head and looking over at Aragorn.

"Women," he said, shrugging. "They get so emotional sometimes." Reaching out, he grabbed Legolas by the collar and began to drag his body over towards the hallway. Aragorn was instantly alert, a frown marring his features.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, sitting up straighter. "Bring him back here, right now or I'll—"

"Relax, my friend. We mopped the floors last week. Can't have them getting dirty again so soon," Ralf answered before he disappeared further into the hallway. The door opened and then shut again and Ralf was back without the elf.

He entered his own room and the door snapped shut leaning Aragorn completely alone.

What he would have given to trade places with the elf. He was sitting here in the warm kitchen while Legolas was left out in the miserable cold for what was probably going to be a painful if not deadly night. Leaning his head back against the wall, he began to work his stiff fingers, trying to reach the shards of glass that he had stuck into his sleeve. He had to escape. He had to get out of here and be ready to offer medical assistance to Legolas, for the elf was not going to die on his watch. Not if he had anything to do about it.

THEDEADLYONES

Aragorn hadn't meant to fall asleep but he awoke with a crick in his neck. He had worked the ropes early into the morning, but he must have drifted off. The shard of glass had been harder to work with then had anticipated as it kept threating to snap under pressure. His fingers were stinging from numerous cuts and he could feel the dried blood cracking as he moved them, once again trying to get the ropes to snap. They were frayed at least, and that was a start.

Bella was humming _that_ song from in the kitchen and the smell of coffee and eggs tickled his nose.

"Oh good, you're up!" Bella turned to him, smiling softly. Her bad mood from the night before seemed to have faded, though budding bruise around her neck would take longer to disappear. She turned back, setting the table. "Ralf! Honey, breakfast is on the table," she called through an open the window.

Bella came over, crouching in front of Aragorn. "Today's the day," she said, her lips quirking upwards and Aragorn pulled back, frowning. He didn't like the sound of that, not with that look her in her eye. She reached out, cupping his face gently. "Most of the time we would have adhered more closely to the rules of the Game, but you keep trying to leave us. And…" she reached up, her hand finding her throat as her face darkened briefly. "Anyway, we can't have that so we shall finish the Game today."

She grinned at him.

Aragorn spat at her and she leaped back, startled. Ralf walked through the door at that minute and she turned, going back to the kitchen.

Together, the couple enjoyed a hearty breakfast and after he was finished, Ralf went back outside while Bella began to do the dishes. He came back in a moment later, dragging Legolas in by the collar.

Aragorn perked up for the first time that morning and scrambled to his knees. Ralf dumped Legolas onto the ground and Aragorn half crawled towards him. For once, Ralf didn't seem to care, going to restock the fire.

Legolas groaned lightly at the rough treatment, weakly curling up into a ball. His face was as pale as a dead man's face and his lips had turned a nasty blue around the edge as he struggled to pull in a decent breath. Aragorn stopped next to him.

"Legolas?" he whispered, nudging the elf with his shoulder. Legolas was cold to the touch but at the movement, his eyes flickered open. His eyes were hazy and Aragorn couldn't help but notice that they wouldn't focus. "It's just me," he said softly, shifting so that his face would be the first thing that Legolas saw.

Legolas let his eyes slip shut again, his body trembling. Aragorn glanced around to see if Bella or Ralf were paying them any attention. They weren't. Shaking the elf's shoulder again, he winced as Legolas gave a deep groan. Aragorn repeated his statement but the elf only rolled further into a ball, clutching at his stomach, grunting in pain. His head came to rest against Aragorn's knee and the man leaned down, his head resting gently against Legolas'.

At long last, whatever was gripping the elf seemed to fade and Legolas slowly relaxed.

"I'm…fine," he croaked at last with a hoarse voice. He lacked all energy to move and simply laid there. The terrible cramps and vomiting had started about sometime early morning but all too soon he had emptied the meager contents of his stomach and was left with painful dry heaves.

"I'm going to get us out of here," Aragorn promised and Legolas nodded in agreement. He closed his eyes again, sucking in a deep breath as another cramp hit him. Hissing, he clenched his hands together tightly. It only kept building and it felt like his insides were on fire. Squirming, he tried to find a comfortable position. It was far too hot in here and his stomach churned again.

Baring his teeth, Legolas wished his hands would work enough to wipe the sweat away that was dripping down his face. Aragorn watched the elf suffer, aware that he could do absolutely nothing besides offer words of comfort. Legolas didn't even seem to hear him and he watched as Legolas began to retch. Biting his lower lip, the only thing he could do was bow his head and lean against the elf, offering comfort through touch.

This continued on for a few more minute and then the pain eased and Legolas relaxed back against the wooden floor. Aragorn's face blurred in front of his eyes and he attempted a smile. Sighing tiredly, he blew out a breath and pulled another one in shakily.

Legolas knew he should be moving, should be getting up and helping them escape but he was so tired and his whole body hurt. Aragorn nudged him, telling him to open his eyes. All heat was gone from him, leaving him shaking and he just...he just couldn't open his eyes. If he had been feeling any better would have mustered up the energy to curse his weakness, but he couldn't even find it in himself to do that. Not listening to Aragorn's pleas he let his weary body slide into an uneasy sleep.

TBC...

 **This chapter was originally over 1,000 words longer but I am exhausted and didn't feel up to editing all that, so I guess you can look forward to reading all that next week! Again! I love hearing from each and every single one of you and MERRY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY HOLIDAYS! HAPPY WEEKEND OR WHATEVER YOU MIGHT BE CELEBRATING!**

THANK YOU AGAIN!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N HAPPY LAST DAY OF 2018! Hopefully, 2019 will be...I don't even know what I want 2019 to be like. Haha, I am totally pretending that I waited to update this because of Dec. 31st. Totally.**

 **Speaking of which, do any of the rest of you do this. Every time I am about to post I go read through it to make sure that aren't many mistakes and somehow, three hours later, I have chopped off of the original chapter and wrote several pages of new martial? I think that is why I hate editing so much because I am never satisfied with what I have written before. That's what happened with this chapter, just in case you were wondering.**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Seven

Legolas slept feverishly for the rest of the morning. Aragorn stayed rooted to the spot next to him, whispering soft words in elvish whenever the prince began to stir restlessly in a fruitless attempt to ease his pain. As the little cottage grew stuffy and hot in the late afternoon, Legolas grew more agitated and nothing that Aragorn would say comforted him.

Bella, who was in the kitchen, pounding a ball of dough in submission finally had enough.

"Shut him up, won't you?" She snapped, using the back of her hand to shove her hair into place. Aragorn, who was bending over Legolas, glanced up at her. The elf moaned, rolling over and onto his side.

"He's in pain! What else did you expect?"

Bella muttered something under her breath and wiped her floury hands her apron. Aragorn watched her, inching closer to Legolas and leaning over his prone body. She came to stand over them and gazed down at the ill elf, her lip curling upwards in a sneer.

"Shut him up, or he'll end up back outside with the hogs." She turned on her heel and marched back to the kitchen. Aragorn let out a long breathe, wondering how on earth he was supposed to do that.

"Legolas, _mellon-nin, mui an-dien. Im mel cin,"_ he whispered. Legolas stirred again, his head coming towards Aragorn. Tired blue eyes rose up to meet his.

"What happened…?" the elf's words were slurred and Aragorn made quick shushing noises, glancing behind him at Bella. She smacked a knife down on the table louder than was necessary, glaring at them.

"What do you remember?" Aragorn asked, keeping his voice low. Legolas would hear him just fine.

"Estel, I—where are we? I don't…" The elf froze, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "No, I remember." His voice was soft and it cracked slightly. "I remember."

"Shh, don't talk. Bella wants quiet." Aragorn warned, going back to twisting and flexing his wrist. The robes were close to breaking, of that he was sure. He just needed a couple more hours.

"Bella?" The question in Legolas voice was clear and Aragorn looked over at him sharply. The elf's eyes were dilated and sweat was pouring down his wan face. The man shifted closer, bending lower until their foreheads were touching.

"Shh, Legolas, it's alright. She isn't paying attention right now," he whispered automatically, trying to gauge the prince's temperature. Heat was pouring off the elf and he felt despair feeling his heart. He needed Legolas clear minded, not confused and feverish if they were going to escape.

"No—no, its…it's not alright." Legolas' breathing caught and he shifted away from Aragorn. "Too close, you're too close," he muttered uneasily. "Can't breathe." Aragorn eased back, watching Legolas with concern.

The front door slammed and both of them jumped, looking around. Ralf was whipping off his boots on the doormat, hanging his hat on a peg.

"Hello darling!" he called, swooping in behind Bella and hugging her from behind. She giggled, swatting at him.

"I wasn't expected you back for another hour at least! He's not ready yet."

Ralf shrugged, wiping the dirt off his hands. "That's alright. I came back early to fix that shelf for you. That might take me a half an hour or so. Then the Game can continue."

Legolas rolled his head over to look up in Aragorn's eyes. "What game are they talking about?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in concern.

"It doesn't matter," Aragorn replied quickly as Bella began to talk again.

"That works out just about perfect. I need to finish this loaf of bread anyway."

Ralf nodded, moving to go into the back hallway. "Oh, and don't forget to prepare both sets." He reminded to which Bella nodded. The man disappeared and Bella went back to her bread.

"Estel?" Legolas voice was soft and Aragorn turned back to him. "What happened? Where are we at?"

"What is the last thing you remember?" he asked, going back to working on the ropes. The return of Ralf seemed to have brightened Bella's mood as she went back to humming to herself. Legolas didn't reply and Aragorn looked back at him. His eyes were glassy and a hard frown was darkening his face.

"I'm sorr—" he started to say, but broke off, his face growing tight with pain.

"Sorry for what?" Aragorn asked, nudging him. "Legolas, what are you sorry for?" The elf coughed weakly, moaning and curling up into a ball.

"Didn't mean it. Was angry." Legolas grunted, swallowing hard around the words. He retched once and Aragorn frowned, both at the words and the motion.

"I don't understand, _mellon-nin."_

But Legolas couldn't seem to get any more words out, his fist clenching and unclenching.

"Whatever you two are discussing can wait," Bella stated and Aragorn jumped. He had been so focused on the elf that he hadn't heard her coming up behind him. "Move away from him, please."

"Move me!" Aragorn returned in frustration. "I'm staying right here."

Bella drew her knife, shrugging her shoulders. "I can move him that works just fine." Reaching down, she grabbed Legolas by his hair and began to drag him back. Aragorn rocked forward, spitting out a curse in elvish.

He tried to follow, but the knife that was now pressed against Legolas' throat halted his movements.

"Good boy," Bella crooned. "Now, just give me a moment." She began to fumble in her pockets, drawing out another dart. She began to prepare it. She sighed, glancing back down at the elf that was lying at her feet and a strange smile touched her lips. Tilting Legolas' head to the side, she deftly inserted the dart.

Almost instantly, Legolas' eyes rolled back into his head and his body went lax.

"You're going to pay for this all, I hope you realize that," Aragorn snarled, but Bella was too busy humming to himself to hear. She crossed back to the kitchen where a cup was sitting.

"Here, this is for you," she stated, indicating that he should drink. "And before you fight me on it, he will die if you don't." Her knife was still in her hand and she waved it threating towards Legolas' prone body. Her smile grew as Aragorn hesitantly obeyed her commands.

The drink tasted foul, the sharp taste of herbs and something else lingered there. but Bella made sure that he drained the cup.

She watched Aragorn for several minutes afterward, before getting up. She gave Aragorn a swift kiss on the cheek before turning back to the kitchen.

Aragorn watched her, trying to get his brain to catch up as everything grew fuzzy and distinctly…odd.

He felt like laughing. He didn't know why since that seemed to be an entirely wrong response to what was happening. What would Elladan and Elrohir do in such a situation? They always knew what to do and made him laugh no matter what was happening at the time. He chuckled, thinking about the time that Elrohir had convinced Elladan to roll down that long hill. Elladan hadn't been able to walk straight and they had laughed their heads off when the older twin ended up in the lake.

He grinned happily, laughing softly to himself. Maybe they could go find a hill to roll down as well. It might make Bella actually laugh normally for once. He puzzled on this for a while but before he knew it, Ralf and Bella were standing in front of him.

"Come along," Ralf reached own, cutting the bindings from his feet before both he and Bella grabbed one of his arms, heaving him to his feet. He couldn't run with them gripping him like that and he growled under his breath. Staggering as the world wavered around him, he half wondered if maybe he had rolled down a hill.

"Woah," he tried to catch his balance and if it hadn't been for the other two holding him upright, he would have fallen to his knees. Together they traipsed towards the cellar.

"What about Legolas?" Aragorn slurred, looking behind him at the elf's body. Legolas wasn't moving and Aragorn frowned, pulling up to a halt. "We should help Legolas."

"Oh, don't worry about him. We will send him on his way in just a moment. Let's get you settled first," Bella patted Aragorn's arm reassuringly and the man frowned, still trying to pull away.

They came to a trap door and Bella pulled it back. Climbing down its steep rungs, she stepped back. Ralf shoved Aragorn forward and Aragorn awkwardly began to try and descend the ladder. Being both hazy and tied up, this wasn't the best idea and he missed the second rung. Falling swift and hard, he hit the ground with a thud.

Bella shrieked in surprise, almost dropping the bottle she was holding.

"You surprised me!" she gasped but Aragorn didn't say anything. The knock seemed to remind him that everything else hurt too and the happy feelings were disappearing.

Ralf jumped the last rung, stepping nimbly over Aragorn. He quickly selected a bottle and another dart.

"Be right back." Scaling the ladder, he disappeared from view.

"Where's he going?" Aragorn shook his head, trying to clear it. Bella came to stand next to him and grabbed his arms. Working together, they managed to get him back up to his feet. Bella walked him over to the chair that was sitting in the middle of the room.

"Sit." Bella went back to the strange assortment of bottles and other strange instruments, mixing and dipping. Ralf came back, looking pleased and almost…giddy.

Together the husband and wife shared a kiss and for a brief second, Arwen's faced flashed in front of Aragorn's eyes. A strange sadness filled his heart and he bowed his head. He wanted to see Arwen again.

He was so lost in his thoughts of the elven maid that he didn't even see Ralf coming at him with a dart before it was inserted into his arm. Hissing, he jerked back and glared at him. Strange weightlessness began to fill his body and he felt like he was floating.

Thoughts of worry and fear drifted off and somehow it was oddly comforting after the long week he had been having.

"Are you a kin-slayer?" Bella's question was dark, but her voice was happy and Aragorn frowned, twisted his head to try and see her.

"Maybe," he slurred, trying to get her face to focus. The thought made him shudder. Bella grinned, moving in closer until both her and Ralf were circling around him in a tight circle.

"Maybe? I thought you were a ranger of the north. Don't you only speak the truth? There is no maybe," Ralf joined in and Aragorn turned his head, trying to follow his movements.

"I don't know what happened," he explained yet again.

"No, I thought you told us about how you had a sword, _your_ sword. It was stained with blood. You told us how the elf was making you mad and you didn't think, you only followed the anger in your gut." Ralf's voice was rising, passion making his words slide together as he got ever nearer Aragorn's face. Bella picked up where he had left off.

"Legolas was still making you angry and before you knew it, your sword was in his belly and you were glad. You were enjoying it. You felt his blood spill over onto your hands, it warmth chilling you. You smiled—"

"—The elf's eyes meet yours. Pain filled them, horror, anger, disbelief. The light began to fade from his eyes, those bright blue eyes going dim. You yanked the sword out and more blood began to come forth."

All the happy feelings were gone and Aragorn stared at them in horror. Their soft voices were winding through his head and the drugs confused reality with illusion. He had killed Legolas? That didn't seem right, but they sounded so sure…

"No!" Aragorn cursed, shaking his head. He couldn't think straight. Bella laughed, and she began to their story anew. Once again they told him gleefully murdered Legolas.

"You never liked him, did you? He bugged you all the time, always thinking he was better than you and making a mock of you. You have wanted to be done away with him for a long time now, haven't?"

That just didn't feel right.

"I—I, Legolas is my friend, I love him like my brother—"

Bella snorted. "Was. Was your friend. Did he feel the same about you?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure?" Ralf bent down right next to Aragorn's ear. "Elves are immortal are they not? He only has to pretend to like you for about 60 years, that is nothing to an elf. Almost like dealing with an annoying bug that he can squash in just a little while."

There was only one candle lite in the cellar and Bella and Ralf's faces flickered in and out of focus. Aragorn shook his head.

"Never. He is my friend—"

"He _was_ your friend. But you enjoyed the killing. Only a monster would enjoy murdering their friend." Bella broke him off, changing topics so fast that Aragorn struggled following. He frowned.

"I—I don't like killing," he protested.

"But you killed your friend. You have to kill again. You are a monster now." Ralf's voice was right next to his ear and he twisted. Bella leaned over, whispering in his other ear.

"A monster that all of society will hate. They will cast you out. Your friends will throw you out, your mother will cry because of you and your father will slam the door in your face. Your lover will turn her back on you."

Arwen's face flashed through his mind again, the disappointment sharp on her face. The twins weren't far behind and their faces mirrored Elrond's in complete disgust. He couldn't do it, he couldn't go back to them. He was simply going to have to live alone, never to grace Imladris doorstep again. He would live alone in the wild, maybe in the Misty Mountains. Yes, yes, that would work.

No…that wasn't right. He hadn't killed Legolas. Legolas was still alive. The rational side of his mind was crying out to him, yelling to him that the elf wasn't dead.

Something sharp slide into the crook of his arm and he looked down just in time to see Bella tossing something aside. A small drop of blood welled up and he glanced with confusion at the women.

"How can you even live with yourself? You split innocent blood, you are a _monster_."

His head was spinning and his stomach revolted. The ale that he had drunken earlier made an abrupt reappearance. Head aching, heart pounding and thoughts spinning, he wanted to die.

"No…" he insisted, the added drugs only further increasing his confusion. "No—I didn't!" His stomach lurched again. "I'm not, I didn't mean too."

"Yes, yes, you did. You wanted to do it! You felt relief to be rid of him. Him and his righteous pride, always thinking that he was better than you when you know that he wasn't even worth half of you." Bella began to stroke his hair, his cheek, his chin, but Aragorn didn't fight it. It wasn't worth the effort anymore.

"Legolas never thought that. I knew he didn't," he admitted in total defeat. He groaned, his head lolling back against his bonds. "I just…it was hard to be different. To be less than them." He could truly never go home now, what if he snapped and killed one of the twins next? What of Arwen?

"And so you killed him."

Aragorn let out a low sob, unable to keep his tears from his eyes. "So I killed him." This time the prick came in his left elbow and through the tears that magnified his eyes he saw Bella grinning at him. Ralf stood behind her.

A low keening noise left his lips and he realized that he was never going to see Legolas again. That he was never going to hear his laugh, or be annoyed at him when he wouldn't answer because he was talking with the trees, or have a deep conversation late into the night about both complete nonsense and the feelings of his heart, or feel his back against his in battle, protecting him. Or…there was too many things to count. Legolas was gone, and he was the one who had done the deed. Thranduil had been right when he told Legolas to stop associating with him.

He couldn't stop the low sobs form coming and he bowed his head, the grief (and drugs) overwhelming. Legolas was dead. He wasn't coming back.

"There is a way to end your misery." Bella knelt down next to him, putting her hand on his arm. She smiled sadly at him. "That monster inside you needs to be destroyed before you hurt someone else." She held out her other hand, and there, glinting in the candlelight, was old, simple, hunting knife. "Just take it, you know what to do."

Grinning, she held it close to him.

The grief, the shame, the horror, it was all too much to bear. Bella laughed softly and Ralf joined in darkly. Reaching behind the bound man, Ralf cut the ropes free and they dropped to a pile on the ground.

Aragorn reached a trembling hand out, his fingers brushing the cold metal. Legolas was _dead_. _He_ had killed him.

His fingers closed around handle.

Something snapped inside of Aragorn and he froze. This wasn't right. He couldn't place a finger on it right now, his brain was too foggy, but _they_ weren't right.

Without stopping to think, he had the knife in his hands and lunged forward. Both Ralf and Bella screamed, jumping back, but his knife sunk into flesh. He didn't know who's and didn't care. Retracting the knife he stabbed again and again and again.

Bella screamed.

Yanking the knife out, he stumbled towards the ladder. He had to get out of here, he had to get away from here.

It took him three tries to get to the top of the rungs and he half rolled out of the top.

His heart was beating frantically against his ribs and he gasped for breath. Rolling to his feet, Aragorn stopped dead and his face turned white. For a moment, he wondered if he was about to sink into a dead faint.

"Legolas…" the elf's name on his lips was a desperate sob and he stumbled forward. He remembered killing Legolas out in the forest, but there his body was. He lay sprawled out on the floor, his eyes closed. His blue lips stood out starkly against the pallor of his skin and Aragorn knew that he was dead. "Legolas…"

Half sobbing, Aragorn dropped to his knees. Crawling forward, he gathered Legolas' rapidly cooling body into his arm and hugged him close. He could clearly see where his sword had ended the elf's life and he knew that he would never forgive himself. Today he had destroyed something good, something wonderful.

Aragorn moaned, burying his face in Legolas' hair but instead of the elf's familiar sent all he smelled was blood. Gagging on it, he gently pulled Legolas up into his arms. Cradling him close, he half walked half stumbled towards the door.

Without a glance back, he began to drag himself into the trees. He no longer cared about being subtle. He didn't care if he was found. He didn't care about anything anymore.

Aragorn's legs weren't working and he found himself sinking to the ground. So he simply sat there, rocking Legolas lifeless body in his arms. He brushed back the knotted blond hair, tucking it back behind a pointed ear.

Legolas face was peaceful, almost like he was just sleeping.

What had Legolas felt in his final moments? Terror as a _friend_ pulled a sword on him? Anguish that it had to end this way? Fear…

The keening noise was leaving his lips again and he bowed his head until their foreheads were touching.

The world would never be the same and he could never go back to how things used to be.

Aragorn had no idea of how long they sat there, huddled together on the ground. The next thing he became aware of was the soft crunching and snapping of twigs. Someone was coming.

Slowly raising his head, Aragorn found Bella standing next to a tree. Blood stained her dress and her eyes were red-rimmed and wild. Tears were slipping down her cheeks, but she remained steady.

"We weren't done with the Game yet," she hissed as took another stepped forward. Ralf was nowhere to be found and Aragorn only shook his head, his eyes finding the Legolas' wan face. Never again was he going to open those brilliant blue eyes, never again was Aragorn going to be able to make them sparkle with mirth.

Groaning, he let his head fall back to its bowed position. Reaching out, he clutched at Legolas' hand tightly, threading their fingers together.

"YOU! Murderer! Liar! Coward!" Bella snarled. She took a step forward but Aragorn didn't protest, didn't move. Soon she was close enough that she could crouch down and stare into his face. "You don't deserve life."

Aragorn lifted his head again. "I deserve nothing," he croaked. He blinked, the trees performing an odd dance in his vision.

"The only thing you deserve is to free this world of you." She once again held out the knife. This time her hands were trembling and she looked ready to perform the murder herself. Slowly, Aragorn reached out and took it.

It felt heavy in his hands. It wasn't perfectly balanced, just enough so that Aragorn noticed it. Fresh blood was staining the blade and handle and his hands came away red. He glanced back down at Legolas. How was he going to face the twins? He was going to have to tell them that Legolas was dead and that he had killed him. That he had murdered him innocently.

He closed his hand around the hilt and pulled the knife close. Bella inched forward, her tears mixing with a bitter-sweet grin.

"All it takes is a second. It will be painless," she whispered.

The knife moved, Aragorn holding it above his own wrist. He knew so many different ways to kill a man, all it would take to end this nightmare was a well-placed stroke. His mind was screaming at him again, tell him that this was wrong, but Legolas' body was heavy in his arms and the drugs strong in his mind.

Taking a deep breath, he began to apply pressure with the knife and Bella grinned.

TBC...

 **I don't even know what to say. The poor dears.**

 **Anyway, feel free to drop off a review! I would love to know what you think.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: HAPPY 2019! MAY MANY FANFICTIONS COME YOUR WAY. Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story and reviewing/following. I appreciate it more then you will ever know.**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Eight

"Would it surprise you if once again we found those two in need of saving?" Elladan glanced over at his twin as they traipsed along the forest path.

"I hope not! Ada might have their heads if we do; he is tired of us having to drag them back half, I am getting a little tired of it myself, my heart can't handle it." Elrohir jumped lightly over a tree root. "And I doubt they are even done scouting yet so hopefully they won't have any time to get into trouble."

Having finished their side of things early, the twins had decided to make their way back around and find the other two (heavens know they usually needed some sort of aid).

"That is if they haven't killed each other yet," Elladan said, shaking his head with fondness and exasperation. The duo hadn't exactly been in the best of moods when they had parted ways, both decidedly grumpy.

Elrohir laughed. "I bet Legolas snapped before Aragorn did. The dear elf was so edgy and grumpy that even shoving Aragorn into a lake couldn't get him to laugh—"

"—which to be fair is probably why Estel was mad—"

"True, that may not have been our wisest move ever, but still. Something had gotten under Legolas' skin…" the smile on his face faded. "Actually, if I had to harbor I guess, I would say that he was feeling guilty that he isn't in Mirkwood right now."

"That child! He thinks that the whole weight of that kingdom rests on his shoulders and his alone." Elladan sighed. "Estel does that too, with the rangers." He shook his head. "How did we ever raise them to become that way?"

Elrohir tossed him a strange look. "If we _had_ raised them, then they would better understand the delicate work of playing pranks and wouldn't be so terrible at it!"

They jumped down from a small, rocky ledge, taking a small trail into the forest. The grass was green and the trees full of leaves. The rain from a few days ago having cleared, at last, leaving the fresh scent in the air. Breathing in deeply, Elrohir looked around happily.

The path up ahead was becoming more and more discernable, wagon wheels having cut deep ruts in it after years of use. The makeshift path lead them down the mountainside and into a small town. Deciding to see if Aragorn and Legolas had made it this far, they wandered into the little pub that looked like a hotspot in town.

As they waited for their chicken to arrive, they listened in on the conversations around them.

"Doesn't seem like the other two have been here, or at least they didn't let others know they were here," Elladan whispered, leaning over to Elrohir. "That old lady over there is talking about how Mrs. Pheebs cat got stuck in a tree. Again. If they had passed through there would be more talk in the town then that."

Elrohir nodded. Whispers about them were already floating through the crowd and the old lady had stopped right in the retelling of the cat story and was instead telling another story about how a pair of cloaked strangers had entered the town years and years ago, who had actually turned out to be Aranarth. Elladan doubted it too be true but held his tongue.

As if on cue, the women holding their food walked out and in and set it in front of them.

"I don't know your faces, friends. Where might you be from?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron and smiling at them.

"Thank you, ma'am." Elrohir pulled the food eagerly towards him. "And no, we aren't from here but rather from up north. We are just passing through."

"Oh," she smiled, leaning against their table. "We haven't had many strangers around here for the past few years. We use to get a lot more but then Stonewall began to flourish, that is about a league over, and well…people just don't come by as they use too." She sighed, shaking her head. "Well, it is pleasant to see you both. Oh, and if you are need of a place to spend the night, Marty's has some real nice rooms, real affordable too."

She bustled off to get them something to drink and returned a few minutes later with two foaming mugs of ale.

"So where might you dears be heading off too?"

Elladan glanced at Elrohir, who nodded.

"We are heading further west, looking for two of our companions. They were supposed to travel up this way."

She nodded knowingly, placing the mugs before them. Elrohir made a face an Elladan kicked him under the table.

"Well, I hope you find them. I haven't heard or seen them and I'm aware of just about everything that happens here."

"—To true—"someone from the back yelled and she waved him off, rolling her eyes.

"Just you dears be careful if you go over Deadman's Gully. That's there is another reason people have started going off to Stonewall. People keep disappearing, it ain't safe these days." She sighed, plopping herself on the stool next to them. She poured herself a third mug of beer and leaned back.

Elrohir stared at her for a moment. "Please sit,"

"Thanks much, but I haven't got much time. Dinner won't prepare itself. Anyway, there have been more than few travelers to go down there, to Deadman's gully, and never come back. Personally, I think they just got lost. The only real person I think who actually disappeared was Miss Sally and her current…friend. But that whore had it coming if you ask me. New men every week would come into town to seek her company, and if that wasn't bad enough! She went dragged her daughter, Miss. Bella, into as well. After that, it wouldn't surprise me if Morgoth himself took her away to be part of his crowd." She shook her head in disgust. "Once Sally disappeared Bella tried to make a decent living of it. She got married to some fellow, Robin or Roan. Maybe Ralf," She drank deeply from her cup.

"Anyway, something like that. But he gave me the shivers as well. It was a sad, sad time." Still shaking her head, she drained the rest of her mug. "But after that Lizzie went and had triplets! Can you believe it? And that drove those other times right out of everyone's head…"

And thus Elladan and Elrohir sat and listened to the history of the small little town. She prattled on for another fifteen minutes before someone else entered the little place.

"Oh, great Scotts! I've kept you here talking and your food is getting cold. Besides, I've got to get back to work. Dinner won't cook itself after all. Enjoy that, honey, and if you need more just yell. I'm right around the corner. Oh, and don't forget about Marty's! Real well-priced rooms!" And with that, she was gone.

Elrohir let out a breath, giggling under his breath. "Who knew one little town could have so much drama. However," his tone turned serious. "It would be just like Legolas and Aragorn to get mixed up in that kind of thing." He tore off a chunk of bread, buttering it.

"I bet you five pieces of silver that they did," Elladan confirmed, shaking his head. "At least we know where to look for them now." He sighed, pushing the mug of ale away. "Ada isn't going to be happy."

After they paid, they got direction out to Deadman's Gully and started on their way.

It wasn't long before they found themselves back out in the forest and following a trail further into the trees which lead to a clearing where a little house stood. Smoke was curling up from the chimney and they hesitantly made their way towards it.

"Maybe they have seen Estel and Legolas," Elladan muttered, tapping at the door. It wasn't latched and swung open a little. Grimacing, he quickly caught it and pulled it back. "That could have been really awkward."

There was no answer from inside and this time with his hand against the doorknob, he knocked louder.

Elrohir glanced around. "Something…something feels off." He nervously tugged at the hilt of his sword and Elladan paused.

"I agree." He pulled a knife free, twirling with ease between his fingers. He knocked once last time and when no one answered, let the door swing open.

The house was deadly quiet.

Crossing over the threshold, they found themselves in a clean, well kept, house. The dishes were washed and placed neatly in the cupboard; there wasn't even a speck of dust on the walls. That made the drops of blood on the living room floor so obvious.

Elrohir crouched down, dipping his fingers into one of the larger drops. He stood, looking alarmed. "Fresh," he whispered as he yanked his sword free.

The feeling of 'wrong' was palpable enough that it could be cut and Elladan traded his knife for a sword. There was a small hallway leading off and Elladan eased towards its.

Seeing that no one was there, he motioned his head for Elrohir to continue through. His brother slipped past him. Starting with the last door, he eased it gently open, glancing around the corner. He shook his head and closed the door again.

Elladan moved past him, cracking a second door. It was a small storage room filled with stacks of clothing, towels and unused material. Moving to the third and final door, Elrohir twisted the doorknob.

At first, he shook his head, but then stopped. Slipping into to the room, there was a shocked gasp.

"Elladan!"

The older twin also entered and stopped dead, staring with disbelief and horror. It was a bedroom, the master bedroom from the looks of it, and behind the bed stood a tall bookcase.

Displayed proudly on several shelves were body parts, human body parts. They hung suspended in a strange liquid that filled glass jars. On the far end was a large toe and next too it sat a nose. A set of teeth and a foot were just below them. In the middle were two complete heads that floated eerily, staring up at them with blank eyes.

"I think we found those who went missing," Elladan said, looking a little green. He crossed to the case, staring in through the glass.

"That is really, really, disturbing." Elrohir said in return. Elladan frowned, moving forward and pulling the case open.

"Look at this!" he said, pointing. "All of them to the left of the women's head are covered in dust and cobwebs. They haven't been taken care of at all, but these ones," he gestured towards the ones on the right, "Are kept in excellent, even pristine, condition." He stood back, counting quickly. "There have to be at least 18 body parts here…"

"That does not comfort me." Elrohir backed up. "We need to find Aragorn and Legolas."

Quickly exiting the room, they went back into the living area.

"There!" Elladan whispered, pointing towards the open trap door of the cellar. Elrohir nodded and together they crept over to the edge. There was a light burning below but they couldn't see anything.

"I'll jump."

Elladan nodded, and Elrohir took a deep breath before he leaped into the unknown. Landing on the balls of his toes, he looked around, sword raised and at the ready.

A body was sprawled in the corner and he felt like a rock had just been dropped into his stomach.

"Estel?" he whispered, crossing to the body. Rolling it over, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. This wasn't his brother. Reaching out, he checked for a pulse, noting that amount of blood that the ground.

The man had been stabbed through the heart. He was dead.

Elladan joined him, eyes growing wide at the sight of the body. There was no other sign of life and neither twin could shake the feeling that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong. Racing back up the ladder rungs, they could only guess the where Legolas and Aragorn had been taken or went.

Outside the cottage, they found footsteps leading into the trees. Without hesitating, they ran into the forest, swords drawn and at the ready while their ears strained for a sound of a fight.

"Wait!" Elrohir threw an arm out, pulling his brother to stop. "I hear something!" Both paused, listening to the sounds around them.

"That way!" Running off into the trees, they followed the sound of a woman's soft crooning voice.

"You only deserve to be set free of this world," she was saying and the twins glanced at each other in terror, pushing their legs harder.

"All it takes is a second. It will be painless."

Elrohir and Elladan burst through the trees, sliding to stop.

There, they found a woman kneeling on the ground a few feet away from Aragorn, who was clutching a limp Legolas to his chest. His other hand clenched a dagger that was already dripping with blood. His hands were shaking and his head bowed, but there was no mistaking where the knife was heading.

It touched the tip of his wrist were his artery was and Elrohir let out a loud yell.

"ESTEL! WHAT ARE YOU—" Leaping forward, he snagged Aragorn's arm but the woman let out an enraged shriek and caught him around the middle, pulling him back. Elladan had also moved and reaching out, he caught the women by the ankle, tugging her backwards forcefully. She let go of Elrohir with a cry of pain and turned on her new attacker. Blood was staining her dress and the tips of her hair. Screaming once again she flung herself wildly at him.

Grabbing her by the arms, Elladan swore as she began to scratch and bite, anything to get free.

Twisting her around violently, he pulled her arms behind her back and held her there. She bucked, throwing her head back repeatedly into his chest.

"Stop!" he growled, securing his hold around her. "We aren't going to hurt you, which more than you deserve at this point!" She screamed again, throwing her head back and lifting her feet from the ground. "Stop!" he couldn't see what was happening with Aragorn and his heart was thudding hard against his chest.

He never wanted to see something like that again. Aragorn with a weapon turned against himself was horrifying.

Tightening his hold around the girl, he swore again and with one sure move thrust her body up against the tree. She froze, her breath catching and the scream dying.

"Now stop fighting! I'm not going to hurt you _unless_ you fight me!" he hissed. She whimpered, going slack. Sobs began to shake her body, growing more and more hysterically until she went abruptly limp in his arms. Surprised, he lowered her to the ground but wasted no time in pulling out a length of rope. He bound her arms quickly and efficiently. They would deal with her later, right then he had more pressing matters.

Elrohir was on his hands and knees next to a clearly distort Aragorn. The man was bent double, low moans coming from his mouth, but the younger twin had the knife in his hand and that was what was important. Sliding down next to him, Elladan gazed with open mouth disbelief.

"What's going on?" he asked urgently. He could hear the man muttering something but the words were muffled and he couldn't make them out. Legolas' eyes were closed and he looked more dead than alive, but Aragorn was protecting him. Any move that Elrohir made to free the elf was met with a growl.

"Estel, it's us, Elladan and Elrohir!" Elrohir begged, reaching out to touch Aragorn's arm. The man jerked back hissing.

"Don't touch me! Don't—" he shook his head, rocking back and forth. "I can't, I can't. I…" he trailed off, face blanching. "Don't hate me."

"We could never hate you," Elladan assured, trading worried glanced with his twin. "Aragorn? Aragorn, look at us." The man only rocked harder. "Aragorn, can I see Legolas? I need to help Legolas."

Reaching out hesitantly, he slid his fingers in-between the gap in the man's arm, only to withdraw as Aragorn smacked him away. The man raised his head, baring his teeth with a guttural growl. Danger was in his eyes, eyes that were dilated so much that little of their original color could not be seen.

"Woah! Estel, it's us. Do you know who we are?" Elrohir held up his hands, dropping the knife to the side so that he could see that they were unarmed. Elladan nudged Elrohir, pointing at the man's arm. The sleeve was rolled up and it was clear that he had been injected with something and recently. That at least accounted for the part of the way he was acting.

Aragorn stared at them for a minute, breathing hard.

"I killed him," he said at last.

Elrohir's mouth dropped open and the twins exchanged scared looks. Elladan inched closer.

"Let me see him, Estel. Let me care for Legolas."

Aragorn's shoulders began to tremble and he only shook his head.

"He's dead. There isn't anything you can do for him,' he whispered. "I killed him. _I killed him_." The twins watched with growing horror. "Kill me, Elladan. Kill me for I killed him." Once again bending over the elf's body, he buried his face Legolas' tunic, shaking hard.

One of Legolas' pale hands slipped from its position and hit the ground with a soft thud. Aragorn didn't notice and moving slowly, Elrohir pressed two fingers against the pulse point.

Elladan held his breath, waiting for his twin's verdict. Elrohir's face dropped and Elladan felt like he had been punched in the gut. Changing positions, he pressed harder. For a moment they thought all was lost but then Elrohir smiled, relief pouring from him.

"He alive," he announced, hanging his head. The _barely_ part didn't need to be spoken; it was clear on the prince's wan face. "Estel! He's alive!" Aragorn moaned, shaking his head.

"I killed him," he muttered, gripping Legolas closer than ever.

"Aragorn!" Elladan snapped, making the human jump. "Aragorn, let me see him." He eased forward and began to wedge his way in the past man's defensives gently but firmly. Aragorn slapped his hands away, clenching Legolas closer and shuffling back.

"Don't take him from me," Aragorn begged, but Elrohir had blocked off his retreat and reaching over the man's shoulder grabbed his hand, forcing him to let go.

"Let him have Legolas, let him go. It's alright, Estel, let go."

The man howled, trying to fight against the tight hold, but he was no match. Elrohir held him still, sitting him up enough so that Elladan could slide Legolas free. Pulling the unresponsive elf into his lap, Elladan bent over him.

Aragorn turned wide, desperate eyes on Elrohir, all fight leaving his body. "I _killed_ him." His words slurred and tears were shining in his eyes as Elrohir pulled him into a tight hug. His hands came up, pressing Aragorn's head into his shoulder and rocking him gently.

"Shh," he whispered, holding his head in place when Aragorn once again tried to find Legolas. He could feel the man shaking and pressed him tighter against his own body. "Shh, Legolas is alive, Estel. You didn't kill him." The man only began to shake harder, his right hand coming up to cling to Elrohir's cloak. This close, Elrohir could see the small pinpricks were the drugs had been interested into his system.

Glancing over at the unconscious women, Elrohir could not find it in his heart to be sorry for her. It had taken several seconds to wrestle the knife from Aragorn and the man had a long, but shallow, cut running the length of his wrist to show for it.

The image made him shudder and he wrapped his arms more securely around Aragorn, clenching him close. Elladan muttered something next to him, a deep frown on his face.

"We need to get them both stabilized and rested," he said out loud, his face grim. Aragorn stiffened at the words but Elrohir nodded.

"Do we want to set up camp here?" he asked, nodding pointedly at the women but Elladan nodded again.

"I think it best not to move Legolas too much right now," he unclasped his cloak and laid it on the ground before shifting Legolas over onto it. Legolas' head lolled limply to the side, exposing marks along his throat much the same as Aragorn's.

"Elladan?" Elrohir pointed but the other elf was already nodding.

"I know." Shaking his head hopelessly, he got to his feet, gathering up his pack. Aragorn let out a low sob, before raising his head. At the sight of Legolas, his already pale face blanched.

He reached out a trembling hand. "Legolas…?" He bowed his head, hands coming around to frame the elf's white face. Elrohir watched, ready to intervene if so called upon. "He's so cold," Aragorn stated, glancing up at his brother as Elladan returned, arms overflowing with bandages, his herb kit, and blankets.

Elladan dumped it all the ground and began to sort through it. He snatched up a bottle and ripped the cork off with his teeth. Tilting Legolas' mouth open, he dripped in a few drops. Looking up from his ministrations, he gave pause just long enough to enfold his youngest brother in his arms.

"Don't do that to me again, ever!" he whispered just under his breath, before turning back to his work.

Aragorn turned pleading eyes to Elrohir.

"He's alive, Aragorn," the younger twin reassured, gripping the man's shoulder in support. Aragorn fumbled with Legolas' wrist, clearly trying to find a pulse but he couldn't get his hands to work and let out a sob of frustration.

"Here," Elrohir took his hand and, holding it steady, placed his fingers into the proper position. Aragorn waited a minute. He couldn't find a pulse and turned back to Elrohir, shaking his head frantically.

"There is a pulse, Aragorn, I promise you. Here," he helped the ranger to rearrange his fingers until at last Aragorn let out a shaky sigh. He could feel a pulse, it was dangerously slow, but it was there. With Aragorn focused on Legolas, Elrohir slipped his own hand against Aragorn's neck. The man's heart was pounding a frantic and uneven pulse against his fingers, his breathing coming in panted gasps.

"Let Elladan work," he said softly after a moment. Aragorn nodded, though he didn't move. He was transfixed by being able to feel Legolas pulse and he frowned in confusion.

"I thought he was dead. I killed him. He's not dead?" he asked. Elrohir confirmed it, pulling him gently back into the embrace.

"Elrohir," Elladan turned his direction as he began to unwrap the filthy bandages from around Legolas' middle. "I need you to run back to that house. I saw some darts and bottles lying on the floor in the cellar. Valar, I knew I should have grabbed them." He shook his head disgustedly. "I need them so we figure out what they gave each of Legolas and Estel. I only feel comfortable administrating certain herbs, not without knowing…" he trailed off, frowning as he bent to inspect the nasty wound.

"Can you handle both of them?" Elrohir glanced down at Aragorn who was looking shell-shocked and terrified. He was muttering something, one hand running through his hair. Elladan paused.

"Be quick," was all he said.

Elrohir nodded, untangling himself from Aragorn. He pressed a light kiss against the man's sweaty brow and Aragorn leaned into his touch, eyes blinking rapidly.

"Hey, hey," Elrohir took his face in-between his hands. "Listen to Elladan, alright? Just sit here and don't move unless he tells you too. Alright?" He waited for Aragorn to nod before standing. Aragorn huddled into himself for warmth, staring with fear at Legolas' still body. "I shouldn't be more than half an hour." Elrohir turned, breaking into a run.

TBC...

 **Well, this ended better than last week. The twins to the rescue, just like always. Aragorn and Legolas would have been dead long ago if it wasn't for them. :)**

 **Feel free to drop off a review on your way out if you enjoyed this! Thank you!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Again, sorry for not posting last week! This chapter was so long and I didn't have the mental energy to edit it. But here we are back on track! Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Questions will (hopefully) be answered in this chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Nine

Elrohir returned with his bags crammed full of anything that he thought might be useful. He found Elladan still bending over Legolas, who seemed much the same as before. Aragorn was curled up in a ball against the prince's side, one of the elf's hands clutched tightly in both of his own.

"Hey," Elrohir crouched down next to his twin and dumped out the contents of his bag. The woman was still unconscious and he made a face in her direction. "You are not going to believe what I found." His voice was just above a whisper and he looked hesitantly towards Aragorn. The ranger wasn't paying him any attention at all. He was singing softly to himself, his fingers glued to Legolas' wrist.

"What?" Elladan gratefully took the small darts that Elrohir passed over. He began to sniff them, trying to decipher what they were. He frowned, sniffing the last dart a second time. Elrohir glanced back at Aragorn, biting his lower lip, before pulling out two small slabs of grey plaster from an inside pocket.

"They were in the cellar." He held them out for this twin to see. In the plaster were perfect molds of an elegantly pointed ear and a finger. An imprint of the ring of Barahir was at the base of the finger and Elladan's mouth dropped open, his hands slowing as his eyes widen with horror.

Aragorn stopped singing, sensing the change in the atmosphere and Elrohir shoved the tablets out of sight. He shuddered, thinking of Legolas' ear and Aragorn's finger being put on display in that case, and quickly pushed them further into his pocket.

"I think I might be ill," Elladan said evenly, his face looking a little green. He went back to sniffing the poisons, his eyes as hard as a stone.

Aragorn began to sing again, curling up a little tighter. His voice broke and Elrohir sighed, moving around to his side. Reaching out, he placed a hand against the human's forehead and frowned. Aragorn was cold to the touch, his eyes were still dilated, and his pulse too fast but at least he had stopped crying.

"Elrohir…" Aragorn caught his hand, looking up at him desperately. "I don't understand."

"Well, if it is any comfort to you, I don't either," Elrohir said lightly, ruffling the young man's hair. "Come, I need your help." Gently pulling Aragorn away from Legolas, the younger twin supported him to the middle of the clearing and together they began to build a fire. When the fire had heated, Elrohir quickly went about boiling some water in preparations for the teas that would surely come.

Sure enough, after several long minutes of debating and testing, Elladan began to call out different mixtures and herbs to brewed. Soon, two different teas were seeping.

Elrohir had seated himself next to Aragorn, keeping a firm hold on him as he continued to tremble.

"Can you drink this for me, Aragorn?" he asked lightly once the teas were done. He brushed the damp curls away from the man's face, smiling gently down at him. Aragorn shuddered, shaking his head but as Elrohir pressed, he finally took the cup in his shaking hands.

He downed the hot liquid in one swallow and the curled up again, his eyes shining in a strange relief. It wasn't long before his eyes drifted shut and sleep overtook him. Easing Aragorn down, Elrohir shifted the sleeping man over a few feet and covered him with cloaks and blankets, before caring for his other needs. Once he was sure that nothing more could be done, he turned to help Elladan with Legolas.

They had a long battle ahead of them.

"Here, I need you to clean that wound," Elladan requested. He had stripped the elf from his bloody and filthy tunic, and the ugly wound in his stomach stood out starkly. "I fear infection has already set in…" he shook his head, aiming a dark glare behind at the women.

"When she wakes up, I'm—" he growled before taking a deep breath and forcing his attention back to Legolas. Elrohir poured hot water into a cup, snagging a clean cloth from his pack. Legolas didn't even stir as he began to undo the stitches.

"Aragorn did these," he commented, grimacing at the state of the wound. It wasn't the man's typically neat and precise work, but it was his all the same.

Behind them the women groaned, stirring. Elrohir paused, his eyes growing dark. Elladan's hands had also stilled. They turned, watching her struggle to wakefulness and Elladan shook his head, throwing his own cloth down.

"I'm going to find out what she did," he hissed, easing Legolas to the ground. Elrohir dropped his bloody rag as well, grabbing his twin's arm.

"Legolas needs you," he implored but Elladan didn't stop. Crouching down next to the women, he waited for her eyes to open. Elrohir hovered over them, glancing back and forth between them and Legolas.

"Elladan," he began again but the older twin stopped him with a look.

"I need to know what she did to them," he said. "I need to know how to help both of them." Elrohir couldn't argue with that and moved to kneel next to Elladan.

The women groaned again, her eyes blinking open. Her bleary gaze found Elladan's face and her own blanched in fear.

"Who are you? Where's Ralf, what—"She stopped, the look on the twin's faces freezing her insides. "Don't hurt me, don't make me—don't make me do it," she whispered, tears rapidly filling he eyes.

Elladan closed his eyes, breathing hard. "We aren't going to hurt you if you help us out," he said, his voice shaking with anger. "We will start with something easy. What is your name?"

She began to sob, trying to back away from the fury on the elf's face as Elladan repeated his question, louder.

"Bella," she finally choked out around her sobs.

"Good," Elrohir said softly, also moving closer. "Now what did you do to them," he pointed behind them at Legolas and Aragorn. Bella's lips quirked upwards and Elladan felt a flash of anger.

"What did you do to them?! Speak!" he demanded, slapping the ground harshly. She jerked back, more tears falling over her eyelids and down her cheeks.

"I—I," She paused, heaving in a deep breath and Elrohir motioned for Elladan to sit back. Bella was terrified, that much was clear. Elladan did so, a sour look on his face.

"Now, start at the beginning. What did you do to them?" Elrohir asked quietly, though his eyes were just as hard.

Bella glanced at him, her face paling.

"We were out picking berries," she began, refusing to look at either of them. "Ralf and I," she choked, her eyes going in and out of focused. "You killed him, didn't you?" she demanded.

Elladan and Elrohir shared dark looks. "We didn't kill him," Elrohir said at last. "Someone else did, but it wasn't us." For a minute she just sat there, rocking and crying.

Aragorn gave a low grunt behind them, turning in his sleep and all three looked over at him.

"He was perfect," Bella whispered, her eyes softening as she gazed at the sleeping man. "We only take them in pairs because…" she trailed off, still staring at Aragorn's pale and bruised face. Elrohir quickly shifted, hiding him from her view.

"What did you do to them? You were out picking berries?"

Bella continued to stare longingly in Aragorn's direction and Elladan snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"You were out picking berries. What happened after that?"

Bella jumped, her eyes coming back to Elladan's before dropping to the ground. "They were fighting, well, at least having a heated discussion. They never heard us coming. Ralf had this clever dart system worked up with a wire so they never saw it coming either. But the darts, it—it made them…" she stopped, grinning a little.

Elladan felt sick and one glance at his twin assured him that he felt the same.

"We put drugs in the darts to make sure that they didn't remember anything and then we took their packs and the elf's weapons. We knew that they would find their way to us, they always do." She stopped, tears misting over her eyes again.

Elladan held up a hand. "Hold up, I'm a little lost. What did you make them forget?"

"What happened to the elf...he was wounded, see? So we planted everything just right. Just enough so that he would know for sure that he had been the one to wound his friend and then they had to turn to us for help. They had no supplies, but we did.

"We always knew who wanted to play and who didn't. The elf didn't want any part of the Game, but Aragorn—he was perfect." She giggled, sighing heavily. "He wanted to play the Game and we couldn't deny him that right so we, ah, intertwined truth and lies until his soul could be set free." Her face turned to a rigid mask and her eyes flashed. "He deserved to die," she hissed finally.

"Alright, that's enough!" Elladan cut her short, his own eyes flashing back. "Who are you to play the Valar?"

Bella spat at him.

"Seriously, how many other people have you and your husband murdered in cold blood?" Elrohir asked in return, his eyes narrowing. Bella turned her head away and raised her chin high. "How many?!"

She began to sing softly

 _Two little birds soar high and free,_

 _Won't you come down and play with me?_

 _Two little birds land in the big tree,_

 _Won't you come down and play with me?_

And they could get nothing else out of her.

"Leave it," Elrohir whispered as Elladan tried once again to get her to answer their questions. "You are needed elsewhere." He glanced back at Legolas and Elladan closed his eyes, nodding.

"Let me know anything else she says," he whispered and Elrohir nodded.

THEDEADLYONES

Aragorn slept for a solid 14 hours and when he did wake up the first thing he noticed was that his head was pounding and he couldn't remember what had happened. He could hear a small fire cracking and popping next to him and feel it's gentle heat through the material, but he didn't open his eyes. _Valar, it felt nice not to be moving._

An owl was chirping in the distance. Soft voices were coming from the other side of the fire and he tried to concentrate on them, but that took too much effort. Their words were in elvish and that alone made him feel safe. Elladan and Elrohir would fill him in on what had happened later.

His eyes flew open.

When had Elladan and Elrohir arrived? The last thing he remembered was watching over Legolas in that thrice-cursed cottage but here he was, staring up at the leafy treetops that were illuminated by the glowing fire. The stars glinted brightly in-between the branches but his brain hurt too much to put two and two together.

Rolling over, he couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips as his head gave a particularly nasty throb.

"Estel?" Elladan looked around from they were crouched across the fire, tending to a still Legolas. Aragorn couldn't see what was wrong with the elf, but he felt his stomach churn all the same and strange feelings of overwhelming grief reared up. Elrohir was at his side before he could move as much as an elbow.

"Legolas is dead?" he asked in sudden realization, holding his head and feeling like it was about to fall off his shoulders. He could already feel tears pricking his eyelids when Elrohir spoke.

"Estel, Legolas is not dead, alright. He's not dead, trust me."

"I—I don't remember what happened." Aragorn couldn't think straight and he let out a low groan. Elrohir blew out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Too much has happened, I'll explain it later." Something dark filtered across his face but Aragorn didn't have the energy to expound upon it. "Let me get you something to dull the pain."

While Elrohir was busy mixing herbs in a pan over the fire, Aragorn eased himself into an upright position, clutching his head in his hands. The world revolved around him for a minute but he felt better once it had dissipated. He could just see Legolas from under Elladan's arm and he didn't have to be told that the elf wasn't doing well. Elrohir returned, pressing a hot tin cup into Aragorn's hands.

"Drink," he ordered, standing over him. Aragorn took a careful sip, but the liquid burned his lips and he held it in his lap, waiting for it too cool.

"How is he?" he asked tiredly cradling his head in his hands. He glanced around and froze. Bella was tied up to a tree and staring lividly at him. A gag had been stuffed in her mouth but there was murder in her eyes.

"Hey," Elrohir tapped his knee, trying to draw his attention but Aragorn was fixated on the women. "Hey!" Catching the man's chin, he turned his eyes back towards him. "We have it under control, alright? She is secured and isn't going to talk to either of you again. And don't worry about Legolas, he will be fine."

Aragorn was too tired to call him out on the lie and took another sip. The steam felt good on his face and he held the cup nearer, breathing in deeply. His eyes drifted back to Bella and he frowned. He couldn't remember what had happened but it hadn't been good.

The man didn't have time to dwell on it as the medication took effect and his eyes grew heavy.

"I thought it was just painkillers," he grouched, sending a half-hearted glare Elrohir's direction. The younger twin smiled, gently pushing him to lay flat on his back again and then he was drifting off into darkness.

When he woke again, his headache was mostly gone and his mind was clearer. Everything came flashing back and he snapped open his eyes, looking towards the tree that Bella had been tied too, but she was gone. Startled, he rolled to his feet.

"Don't worry, she didn't escape," Elladan called over. He was sitting cross-legged next to Legolas, but he got to his feet and came over to stand next to Aragorn. "Elrohir took her back the village. There she will be tried for her crimes."

"There was another, Ralf, her husband," Aragorn whirled around, eyes wild.

"He's dead."

"Oh…" Aragorn frowned, his body stilling. Far away memories of being in the cellar and having a knife flashed before his eyes. "I think I killed him," he whispered.

Elladan shrugged. "I can neither confirm nor deny that. He was dead when we found him."

Aragorn wondered how on earth the twins _had_ found them but there were more pressing questions on the tip of his tongue.

"How is Legolas?"

Elladan sighed, running a hand over his face. "Not as well as we would have hoped but he's not dead, so that is good."

Aragorn frowned, the memories of grief resurfacing.

"I thought he was dead." He shuddered. "I…" he trailed off. Not yet could he admit that he might have been the one to cause his death. Elladan gave him a sad little smile and Aragorn had the horrible feeling that Elladan knew what he had been about to confess.

"Elrohir should be back soon and then I think we will be able to try and figure it out. It is going to take all three, or four, of us to do so." Together they began to walk over to Legolas' side, Elladan throwing his brother sideways looks.

Legolas' eyes were closed, his face pale and his breathing labored.

"Legolas?" Aragorn reached out, laying a hand against his bare shoulder. His skin was ice cold against his fingers and he shuddered. "Has he awoken at all?"

"Sort of, he has had moments of consciousness but he was pretty dazed." Elladan sank down, stirring a pot that had a thin layer of herbs and ointment sizzling. "Whatever they gave him messed up his system profoundly. His body is still trying to snap out of it and, to be honest, if he hadn't received help when he did, he would have died."

Aragorn nodded, tilting the prince's head to the side. Small bruises marked where he had been injected and it was clear that Ralf hadn't been too careful. Pushing the blanket aside, he tugged the bandages free from the stomach wound. The injury had been cleaned with small, even stitches in place of his crooked ones.

"No signs of infection?" Aragorn looked around at Elladan quizzically. "I wasn't able to take very good care of it."

"You did the best that you could with what you had, I am sure," Elladan rebuked, giving him a small glare. He began to dish the poultice onto a clean bandage.

Together, they changed the prince's bandages before Elladan began to make a light supper. He kept insisting that Aragorn stay where he was at and the man didn't fight him too hard on it. He sat there, with his eyes partially closed and one hand gripping Legolas' wrist, monitoring his pulse.

It wasn't stable at all and Aragorn now understood while his brothers had kept such careful watch over his friend.

It wasn't long after that that Elrohir appeared through the trees. He was humming softly but quickly stopped as he entered their little area.

"I have that cursed song stuck in my head," he muttered, accepting a bowl of soup from Elladan.

"The two little bird's song?" Aragorn asked, shuddering. "Well, just imagine hearing it again and again while you are tied up in her living room while she knits." He shivered, pulling his cloak further around him for warmth with one hand. The twins had reset his broken arm while he slept and he cursed it in frustration.

"She knitted?" Elladan looked confused as Aragorn nodded emphatically. "Strange."

Legolas' breath caught and they all froze, waiting with bated breath. A moment later his chest heaved as he pulled in air and they relaxed slightly.

"So…" Aragorn began, the question still nagging at him. "What happened? I have really vague memories and feelings, but nothing else."

"How about you start, we finish. That way we might be able to put the story together," Elrohir said through a chunk of bread.

Aragorn paused, thinking with a frown on his face. He sighed, wrapping his hand around Legolas' cold one. "I honestly don't know the beginning of it," he finally said, looking only at Legolas face. "I remember parting ways with you and then—I was waking up in the rain."

He clenched Legolas' hand tighter.

"Legolas was on the ground, injured with that stomach wound." He opened his mouth, shut it, and then repeated the process. Elladan and Elrohir shared a meaningful glance and Elrohir pressed his lips together.

"You didn't do it," Elladan said softly. Aragorn's mouth fell open, his eyes wide.

"How did you? What if I—you weren't there." He stumbled over his words, practically crushing Legolas' hand.

Elrohir smiled. "You don't remember this, but, well…You were kind of drugged out of your mind and were convinced you had killed him. Besides, we were talking to Bella. She and Ralf overheard you fighting, and managed to get both of you with some sort of darts. That's why you don't remember anything."

"But—" Aragorn paused, a frown coming over his face. "Why didn't you start? You clearly know more about then I do. Who stabbed Legolas, then?"

Elrohir opened his mouth and then shut it again. "She didn't exactly say who did that," he said quietly. "BUT," he began overriding Aragorn and giving him a stern look, "I'm sure it wasn't you."

"I agree," Elladan said emphatically. Aragorn didn't look convinced and he sighed. "Listen, I know your soul just as well as anyone. You are _not_ a killer; you never have been and never will be. You are too gentle of a soul for that."

Aragorn looked down at his boots and continued to tell his story, not looking at the twins any longer. Elladan and Elrohir kept sharing knowing looks but didn't stop their brother.

"They kept drugging both of us and talking about 'a game' that we were going to play. I think…I think they wanted to turn me into a killer, to make me kill again. The last thing I remember before waking up here was sitting in the cottage, trying to keep them away from Legolas." He stopped, his eyes sad as he pressed Legolas' hand against his chest.

Elladan nodded. "Well," he began. "First off, I don't think that they were trying to turn you into a killer, but that comes in later. We finished early and decided that since you two were always on the brink of disaster that we should come and offer our assitence—"

"—thank the Valar that we did—"

"— and we found a small little town about two miles west of here. They told us that people had been disappearing so we put two and two together and showed up just in time to save your hide."

"You were _drugged_ out of your mind," Elrohir informed Aragorn softly. "Estel, out of your mind."

Aragorn paled.

"Were they trying to make me kill Legolas again, but for real this time?" he whispered.

"You didn't try to kill him in the first place!" Elladan shook his head in exasperation. "No, but you did—you did try to kill yourself." Elladan's grey eyes reflected the horror of the moment but Aragorn only blew out a breath.

"Well, it's a good thing that you showed up, I guess," he said lightly, relief in his face and voice. Elladan and Elrohir stared at him.

"You're an idiot. They weren't trying to turn you into a killer, they were trying to make you commit suicide!" Elladan declared. "That isn't a light matter, Estel!"

A low moan from Legolas stopped them in their tracks and all three of them crowded around the elven prince.

"Legolas," Aragorn called, reaching out and covering his forehead with his hand. Legolas' breathing hitched and he gasped, pain scrunching up his face. "Legolas, come on…wake up." The elf moaned again and Elladan reached out, monitoring his pulse. It took a few minutes of prodding and convincing but at long last Legolas' eyes cracked open.

"Hey…there are those pretty blue eyes," Aragorn teased but Legolas only let them slip shut again with a tired sigh. "Hey—hey—hey, Legolas," Aragorn pressed a hand against the elf's cheek, trying to get him to focus.

Legolas' bright blue eyes flashed open again and they moved across the sky before settling on Aragorn's face. They didn't focus and Legolas narrowed his eyes, squinting.

"Can you hear me?" Aragorn asked slowly and distinctly. Legolas frowned again but didn't move or answer.

"Here," Elladan pressed a cup into Aragorn's hand and the man took it gratefully. Elrohir lifted the prince's head and Aragorn titled the water against his lips.

"Drink," he commanded. Legolas took a small sip and began to sputter and cough and most of it ended up on the front of his chest instead of his mouth but it seemed to help some. His eyes were at least clearer than before.

"Estel? Is that you?" he asked, his voice weak. His breathing seized painfully and he weakly dragged an arm across his chest.

"Yes, it is I, _Mellon-nin._ How are you feeling?" Aragorn smoothed back the lank hair as Legolas shrugged, leaning his head against Elrohir's hand. Elladan and Aragorn shared dark looks but Legolas didn't see any of it, his eyes drifting shut again.

"Let him sleep," Elladan half whispered and Aragorn nodded. He didn't let go of the elf's hand again until his eyes had been closed for close to fifteen minutes.

"At least he awoke and was more aware than last time." Elladan got back to his feet, dump the rest of the water into the dirt.

THEDEADLYONES

The next time that Legolas awoke, it was just him and Aragorn. The twins had gone back into the small town to bring evidence of Bella's crimes as wells as Ralf's body back. Aragorn still shuddered to think of what had almost happened to them. Elrohir had pulled him aside earlier that morning and showed him the small slabs and explained what they had found in the master bedroom. That had been disturbing.

It was on those thought that he was dwelling when Legolas once again stirred.

"Aragorn?" Legolas asked once he could find his voice. Aragorn nodded happily, leaning a hand against Legolas' cold face.

"Who else would be keeping watch over your sorry hide?" he tried, but it felt a little flat. Legolas' lip twitched upwards all the same. He motioned for Aragorn to come near and the man did so.

"I—I don't…Estel, I don't feel well," he admitted slowly, blinking sluggishly. Aragorn smiled sadly, squeezing the elf's hand.

"You haven't been well at all, still aren't. So just lay still," he grabbed a cloth from the semi-warm bowl of water and began to fold it into a neat rectangle before laying it across Legolas' forehead.

"I don't remember how I go the here," the elf remarked, swallowing thickly.

"Shh, we will explain everything later," Aragorn supplied and Legolas nodded, tugging limply on Aragorn's shirt sleeve. Aragorn bent closer, searching the elf's face intently as the elf drifted for a moment, his eyes flickering to the trees around them.

"What do the trees have that compare with my dashing looks?" Aragorn jested, making the elf jump and turn his gaze back towards him.

"I think I saw... Are the twins here?" Legolas lifted his head, glancing around. Even though seemed to be too much and he let his head flop back.

"They are here; they just had to run a quick errand."

Legolas grimaced, coughing as his next words caught in this throat and Aragorn quickly pressed his finger against the elf's lips. "Stop trying to speak!" he ordered. Legolas nodded wearily. He could already feel himself drifting when Aragorn leaned closer, bringing his face into focus. The man looked tired. His eyes were lined with dark circles and Legolas could feel the weight of whatever the man was carrying from here.

"What's wrong, Estel," he tried to say, but he had a feeling that the words had gone all wrong and didn't make much sense. Aragorn smiled gently at him and Legolas slowly began to drift off to sleep once more.

To Be Concluded...

 **That's right, folks! Next chapter is the last one...speaking which I have some ideas floating through my head for a new story but what would like to see? Which characters would you like to be focused on? Or do you not want another story? That's fine too. :) Anyway, if you have any preferences let me know! Otherwise, I warn you it will be another Legolas/Aragorn friendship with whump. Which we all love, but if you want something different to let me know (I guess is what I am saying in a long-winded way).**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Everything, and I mean everything, was due today (and thus the late update) but the nice thing about that is that I had nothing to do besides post when I came home.**

 **Guys, thank you so much for sticking with this story. It has meant the world to me.**

Chapter Ten

The twins returned later that night, looking tired and haggard.

"Bella's going to go away to prison for a long, long, time," Elladan said, plopping down next to Aragorn and reaching for a tin plate. Their dinners were staying warm near the fire and he began to eat it hungrily.

Aragorn nodded once before passing a plate of stew over to Elrohir. The younger twin took it gratefully. Aragorn dished himself a plate and moved over to sit next to them.

"How's Legolas holding on?" Elrohir asked, dipping a hunk of dried bread into the bowel. Aragorn made a face.

"He woke up in the early afternoon but...I don't know, he worries me," he confided, watching the sleeping elf a mix of worry and fear.

"I know," Elladan said softly. "He worries me as well. As do you," he added and Aragorn did a double take.

"I'm fine," he said shortly, turning back to Legolas. Elladan and Elrohir shared a silent conversation as they ate their soup. Aragorn hadn't forgiven himself yet, that was clear.

Legolas took a turn for the worse that night. A fever gripped him firmly in its grasp and refused to let go. The three sons of Elrond stayed up into the early hours of the morning, trying desperately to break the fever or to waken Legolas from his violent dreams. When the fever finally did break, Legolas was left lying limp and exhausted.

Aragorn sat diligently at his friend's side for almost three days even as the elf didn't show any sign of life. Gradually, the ill elf began to gain some color back to his cheeks and his breathing eased. His heart stopped pounding and returned to a more normal pace and at long last, he began to fight the drug-induced slumber.

Legolas awoke first to the soft sounds of someone crying out, as if in terror. His head hurt and his body moved sluggishly to his demands, but his mind had no trouble recognizing the signs that something was off. Forcing his eyes open, he was moving before he could even think, searching for his knife. He couldn't see anything except the stars overhead and his heart pounded wildly. Someone gasped and Legolas twisted violently. Pain seared through his chest and he froze. After several tense seconds, it faded and he let out a long breath.

Aragorn was sitting next to him, leaning against a tree and half asleep. The human shuddered; sweat beading his brow and he moaned in his sleep, twisting. So they weren't under attack…

Legolas looked around. The two lumps near the dying fire were probably Elladan and Elrohir, but they appeared to be sleeping soundly. A wet rag was clenched in Aragorn's fist and Legolas could only guess that the man had been on duty, watching over him.

Aragorn groaned again and Legolas winced, trying to get his limbs to move accordingly.

"Estel," Legolas hissed, his voice weak even to his own ears. The man stirred, his brow furrowing. "Estel," he tried again a little louder. Aragorn jerked awake, his eyes wide and searching. They found Legolas and all the breath left the man's body.

Legolas frowned, calling the man's name again. The words caught in his throat and harsh cough ripped through his body until tears blinded his vision. When he blinked clear his eyes at long last, Aragorn's was leaning over him, looking worried but fully awake.

"How's the pain?" Aragorn was asking in a low whisper, his hands quickly rewetting the cloth he was holding and folding it. He placed it gently over Legolas' brow, his hand holding it in place as he gazed at the elf. "Don't lie to me," he warned as Legolas opened his mouth.

Legolas simply shrugged, his head pounding as his chest once again expressed its unhappiness with him. "I've haven't been awake long enough to say," he finally settled on as Aragorn continued to stare at him.

"Well, you look terrible," Aragorn stated with a slight smile on his face. His eyes were still dark with faint terror, but Legolas couldn't work up the energy to frown as he searched the man's face. Aragorn's arm was bound tightly up in a sling, his face bruised and cut in places.

"I think you are simply looking in a mirror," Legolas teased, holding his breath stiffly. Aragorn turned for a minute and came back with a tin cup.

"It's just water." Aragorn raised Legolas' head, allowing him to rest it in the crook of his arm. Legolas sipped at first, but once the water wetted his tongue he realized how thirsty he was and began to gulp. Aragorn pulled the cup away much too soon.

"You can have some later," he insisted, setting the cup aside and then fell silent, simply staring at his friend. Legolas couldn't help but feel that he had missed something very important. Aragorn's eyes were magnified by unshed tears and Legolas reached out, searching for the man's hand. Aragorn took it, clasping it tightly in his own.

They didn't speak, and Aragorn simply clung to his friend's hand, reassuring himself that his friend was alive, that he hadn't killed in him and that he would live to see another day. The elf's hand was warm in his and he could feel his fingers squeezing his. The nightmare had startled him and Aragorn didn't want to continue to see himself stabbing Legolas again and again. The elf's blood had been heavy on his hands, staining them an irreparable red. Blowing out a long breath, he raised his eyes to the stars.

"Don't tell Elladan or Elrohir that I fell asleep. I was supposed to be keeping an eye on you and keeping you drugged." His voice caught, and he continued to stare up, blinking ferociously.

"Don't talk, Estel," Legolas whispered, drawing the man's hand up to rest against his chest. His face was tight with pain and Aragorn moved to gather something for it, but Legolas remained holding tight to his hand. "Don't ruin the moment; let us just watch the stars." He turned his head to face Aragorn and offered a weary smile in return. "Whatever you want to discuss can wait for later. Right now is right now."

He turned his head back to the stars and Aragorn silently turned his head back up towards the glittering expense. Legolas was breathing, he was talking to him, why on earth could he not erase his feelings of guilt and shame? Taking several breathes he tried to dislodge the lump in his throat and was glad for the moment that Legolas didn't desire to talk. He gripped the elf's hand, grounding himself, and felt relief as Legolas' hand tightened in return. The burning sensation in his throat grew.

Silently, Legolas reached out and began to tug at Aragorn's sleeves. "Come here," he whispered. He still did not quite understand all of what was troubling Estel, but he was sure he would find out when the time was right.

Aragorn folded, allowing the elf to pull him down until his head rested against Legolas' chest. He curled up in a ball next to his friend rather like a cat and simply listened to and felt the elf breath. He couldn't stop his own shuddering breathes that shook his shoulders but Legolas made no mention of it, his hand resting lighting atop Aragorn's head.

"The stars are bright tonight," was all he said, his eyes fixed upwards as his fingers began to lightly trail through the man's ragged and dirty hair. Aragorn's shoulders were shaking in earnest now and he began to rock slightly. How could he explain to his brothers that Bella's words hadn't left his head, that he still felt like he had snapped and killed Legolas? He could hardly understand it himself and all he knew was that it hurt. It hurt, and he didn't know how to fix it.

Aragorn didn't know how long he laid there, pressed against Legolas' side. He began to calm after a while, hiccupping himself into silence. Legolas' hand had stilled against him and from the calm, even breathes he figured that the elf's weakness had overcome him into sleep once more.

Lifting his head, he tried to move but Legolas shifted, his fingers tightening in his hair and Aragorn laid back down gingerly. Turning skyward, he couldn't help but notice that the stars were indeed bright. They glinted, shinning down hopefully upon them.

He watched them shift across the sky until sleep claimed him once again.

THEDEADLYONES

"Eat, please," Aragorn insisted, setting his own bowl aside and staring at Legolas. The elf only shook his head, pushing it back aside and looking faintly ill.

"Don't push it, little brother," Elrohir recommended and Aragorn only frowned, laying his chin on his knees.

"Please," he repeated but Legolas still shook his head.

"Occupied," he stated, gesturing to the pile of arrows near him. The twins had gone back and searched the house until they had found the elf's weapons and their packs. Legolas was in the midst of repairing some of the more damaged arrows. Aragorn glared at him and left the bowel of stew next to him with a pointed glanced.

The fire crackled merrily, lightning the clearing as darkness began to fall. The twins and Aragorn struck up a discussion about the best way to travel back to Rivendell and it didn't take Legolas long to lose interest. His focus on the arrows slowly faded as well as the nagging pain in his body gained an edge that put everything else out of his mind. So he sat there, staring dully into the flames with a hand wrapped around his waist, the arrow he had been halfheartedly working on lying in his laps. He pushed a hand further against his side, feeling more and more ill. The others kept assuring him that the pain and symptoms would pass, given time, but it was frustrating all the same.

Their soft words rolled over him and Legolas curled up on his side, watching the fire and eventually closing his eyes. He might have slept for the next time he opened his eyes, the embers were smoldering and his friends were wrapped in their bedrolls. A blanket had been draped over his shoulders and the arrows removed, stacked neatly in a pile next to him.

Progress had been made; they were no longer having someone stay up to monitor him, just in case.

Sighing, he gingerly rolled over, his breath catching. It hurt more than he was letting on and Legolas rubbed at his eyes tiredly, trying to get them to focus on the night around him. He couldn't see the stars through the cloudy sky and he frowned.

After what could have been an hour of tossing and turning, Legolas rolled over again with a huff. It was useless; he wasn't going to sleep anymore tonight. Glancing around at his friends, he very gently eased himself upright. The world spun for a moment, but it didn't last long and Legolas eased himself to his feet.

His legs were shaking, but it wasn't worse than before and he began to totter a little way into the trees, brushing his hands along the bark to further his balance. It felt good to be on his feet again despite what Aragorn would say. He didn't go very far, for all of Elrond's sons would have his head if he did.

The overprotective bunch would lock him in his room as it was. Shaking his head with exasperation, Legolas gently pulled himself up into the branches of a tree. This—this was where he belonged and he leaned his head back, staring up into the night sky.

It didn't take long for his head to start pounding again and Legolas allowed the cool night air to wash over his face.

"Legolas?" the scared half whispered reached his ears easily and he half turned. Aragorn was winding through the trees, looking slightly panicked.

"Right here," he called, watching with a small smile as Aragorn turned towards the sound of his voice.

"You stupid elf!" the human hissed, eyes scanning the treetops until he found Legolas' form. Shaking his head, he jammed his hands on his hips. "Am I coming up or are you coming down?"

Legolas grinned, leaning his head further back against the wood.

"You can go back to sleep, Estel. I didn't mean to wake you," he said. Aragorn snorted.

"Right. I guess I am coming up," Legolas frowned, watching carefully as Aragorn made his way into the tree. He eased himself upright, ready to make a quick grab if Aragorn slipped as he climbed with only one hand. The human made it safely and perched lightly on a branch just lower than Legolas.

"How are you feeling?" Aragorn asked, glancing up Legolas.

"Better," Legolas said truthfully. Aragorn sighed, tugging absentmindedly on the leaves next to him.

"Really?"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "I am aware of my limits." Smirking, he began to also tug at a few of the leaves.

"I think we have very different viewpoints on what is acceptable, Legolas," Aragorn said stiffly. Still smirking, Legolas leaned over the edge and dropped one of the leaves. It floated down, landing in Aragorn's dark hair.

"Maybe," the elf agreed lightly, dropping another leaf. They set in silence for several minutes, only the sound of the wind in the trees filling the air.

"I want to talk to you," Aragorn finally said, shifting and pulling his legs up to his chest. Legolas frowned as some of his carefully places leaves were dislodged and began to drift towards the ground.

"What about?" he asked, grabbing another few leaves. Aragorn sighed, putting his chin on his knees.

"About what happened before Bella and Ralf's, something I probably should have told you before now." Aragorn broke off a twig, twirling it in his fingers. His gut shifted nervously, despite the fact that the twins had assured him again and again that he hadn't been the one to do it. He still hadn't had time to discuss it with Legolas, and the twins had respected that.

Legolas frowned, sitting up straighter.

"But—but I was scared, scared that—that you might," Aragorn didn't finish his sentence, his stomach curling up into a tight knot.

"Aragorn—"Legolas began but Aragorn cut him off, raising a hand.

"Please, let me just speak for a moment. Please."

Legolas nodded, seeing the serious look in his friend's eyes. Aragorn began to speak quietly, looking back down at his boots. He told the elf all about how he had found his friend, how it was very likely _he_ was the one to have stabbed the elf and almost end his life. If it hadn't been for him then Bella and Ralf likely would have captured them.

When he finally stopped speaking, he once again refused to look at Legolas. His heart pounded anxiously, waiting for the elf's verdict. If Legolas told him that he wanted nothing to do with him then he would accept that and move on. It hurt more than he liked to think, but if that was what the elf wanted then he wouldn't blame him.

He waited with bated breath.

Legolas frowned. "I don't believe that," he stated emphatically, shaking his head. "I don't believe that for a second and I hope to the Valar that you don't either, Aragorn." There was a touch of anger in his voice and Aragorn looked up, trying to find his face in the shadows.

"Is it, though?" he asked.

"Yes!" Legolas snapped. "Listen, maybe it was your sword that caused my wound, doesn't mean you held the handle. Doesn't mean a thing. And if maybe you did do it? Well, I don't think for a second that you wanted too."

The man didn't say anything and Legolas clumsily dropped down onto the branch below him. He sat lightly on the branch in front of Aragorn, the limb easily taking his lightweight.

"Aragorn, look at him." He reached out, putting a hand on his knee. "Look at me." Aragorn kept his gaze diverted and Legolas shook him lightly. "At me," he repeated and at last the man's eyes rose. He met Legolas' kind blue eyes, searching their depth.

"I don't blame you. I couldn't blame you if I tried, and I most certainly can't blame you for something that you didn't do. All the evidence could be pointing toward you and I still wouldn't believe it because I _know_ you. I know what your soul is like and that counts for so much more than any evidence that you can shove in my face. Now, I just need you to believe it."

Aragorn sighed again, shaking his head. "I almost killed you, Legolas."

The elf sighed, gripping his knee tightly. "No, you didn't and I think that you will come to see that, you just need to work through it first." He sat back, staring at the man. "Think about it, and then come talk to me again." He smiled gently at the man, not moving.

Aragorn nodded once. That was extremely similar to what the twins had told him and he guessed he should have seen it coming. Sighing, he reached down and pulled something from his pocket, turning it over in his hands.

"I was bored, and well. I mean, after all, you did spend a lot of time sleeping, anyway…" he trailed off and awkwardly shoved a small wooden token at the elf. Legolas took it, turning it over in his fingers and examining it.

It was simple and had been wilted from an oak branch. An intercut symbol of Mirkwood had been carved one side and the other was Imladris'. Aragorn watched the elf hesitantly, biting his lower lip.

"I mean, it's not much and if you don't like it—That's fine too. I was just thinking about how uptight you get about leaving Mirkwood recently and well, this way you carry it with you." He was rambling and knew but he couldn't help it.

Legolas shook his head mutely. "Hannon le," was all he said as he rubbed the rough wood with his thumb. He closed his fist around it, before tucking it carefully away in a pocket. "Thank you, Estel," he reached out, covering the man's hand with his own.

Aragorn jumped. "By the Valar, your hands are cold!" he complained, snatching at the prince's hand and wrapping his own around it. "What are you doing out here? How much of an idiot are you?" he chided and Legolas rolled his eyes.

"You're just having problems with it now?" he asked, trying to scoot away from the man. Aragorn refused to let go.

"It's like two in the morning. What on earth are _we_ doing? We are both idiots."

"You don't say?" Legolas once again tried to pull free and this time the man let him. "Come on, let's get back to camp before the twins wake up and tell us that we are both idiots as well." Climbing stiffly to his feet, he held out a hand for Aragorn. He took it and together they descended back to the ground.

Legolas wavered slightly on landing, a hand going to his side with a wince. Aragorn frowned, steadying him with one hand. Legolas smiled, moving away from him.

They ambled back to camp, going at a slower pace than they might have as Legolas looked tired to Aragorn's eyes. The fire was almost out by the time they got back and Aragorn went to work building it back up. Legolas lowered himself to the ground with a small groan, his face going pale.

Aragorn bustled back over, grabbing one of the spare blankets and wrapping it around his shoulders and tucking it into place.

"Stop fussing, Aragorn," Legolas rebuked, settling further into the warmth. "By the way—you have leaves in your hair," he reached up, pulling an offending leaf free and showing it to the man. Aragorn frowned and Legolas pressed his lips together, trying not to smile, and pulled another one out.

"Thanks?" Aragorn frowned going back to the fire. He put some water on to heat as well, throwing different herbs in at what looked like random to Legolas.

He chuckled, turning back to his friend.

"You know our children and grandchildren are never going to believe us when we talk about how we faced down the 'Terrifying knitting killers.'

Legolas laughed lightly, wrapping his hands in the folds of the blanket. 'The great baking butcherers,' he added.

Aragorn giggled, pouring the water into two different cups.

"The home-making homicidal horror."

THEDEADLYONES

Not very many miles away, Bella sat in her cell, staring up at the sky. She clutched a rock that if you squinted hard and titled your head to the right looked like a bird. She scrunched up her knees close to her body, turning the rock over and over again in her hands.

 _Two little birds soar high and free,_

 _Won't you come down and play with me,_

 _Two little birds land in the big tree_

 _Won't you come down and play with me?_

 _._

 _One little bird said oh yes please,_

 _I'll come down and play with thee,_

 _The other little bird says that's not for me,_

 _I won't come down to play with thee._

 _._

 _The second little bird tried to flee_

 _Never coming down to play with me,_

 _But the first little bird stays in the big tree._

 _Always there to play with me._

 **THE END**

 **That's it! It's a wrap!**

 **THANK YOU SO MUCH again for reading this and feel free to drop off a review on your way out! In the next few weeks, you can look forward to another story with Legolas, Aragorn, and the twins involving-well, it has something to do with a dead guy, jewelry, and summer homes. Oh, and pain. Don't forget the pain. :)**


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